


Who Framed Roger Rabbit: The Aftermath.

by MollyMerccurY



Category: Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988)
Genre: Alternate History, Discrimination, Domestic Fluff, F/M, First Meetings, Flashbacks, Marriage Proposal, Misogyny, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28487226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MollyMerccurY/pseuds/MollyMerccurY
Summary: A story I've created detailing what happens after Who Framed Roger Rabbit. There will be domestic moments, the reality of what living as a toon is like, and how that world of toons and humans changes after 1947.
Relationships: Dolores/Eddie Valiant, Jessica Rabbit/Roger Rabbit
Comments: 21
Kudos: 20





	1. Just the two of us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jessica would do anything for her husband. Anything.  
> Even if it meant hurting herself.

"Come on Roger, let's go home." "I'll make you a carrot cake."

Jessica suddenly realised that that promise didn't sound as simple as it did 20 minutes ago. 20 minutes ago when all was resolved and Jessica truly felt like she could sleep easy finally. Although admittedly she had started to feel that way once she told Roger that she loved him but still, all she felt now was tired and her feet hurt and she wanted out of her dress and gloves.

At least the car still worked. When Jessica had first saw it: its white paint scuffed and scratched, front askew and trunk open, she was sure it wouldn't start and in her rush to find her husband, why would she bother checking to see if a broken car would _magically_ work? Maybe it working _did_ have a magical explanation; Tinker Bell did spread her pixie dust everywhere in celebration once all was over but Jessica shook her head at the memory. This was a _real_ car, not a toon car.

She looked up at the rear-view mirror and signalled when it was safe, her hands twisted the wheel effortlessly to the left and she clicked the indicator off _just_ before it got annoying. At least that's what Roger told her.

Jessica moved her eyes to the passenger seat, suddenly worried why he was so quiet, only to see him asleep: cheek pressed against glass and ears flopping slightly at the wind passing through the half-opened window.

She smiled at that.

Well, patty cake wasn't exactly on the table anyway, considering how tired she was, no matter how nice it sounded. They'll do it tomorrow she reasoned; nodding at the thought.

But she couldn't help but frown at the mention of patty cake, prior thoughts and feelings immediately rushing back. She still hadn't explained herself in the way she wanted too, yet Roger seemed happy to forgive her right away which made her feel a mixture of happiness and sadness. Sadness at the thought of him possibly thinking she'd do something like that just because. But he knew her, that's why he forgave her and that's why she married him. _Even_ toons didn't try to understand her when she attempted to explain that she wasn't bad, but Roger listened and the best part of it was: when she told him all those years ago, he looked at her eyes the whole time.

A yawn and a grumble made her look in his direction.

"Hello." she greeted, "sleepy?"

She watched him from the corner of her eye as he stretched and straightened his posture.

"Yep." he said through a yawn.

"We're almost home, then you can sleep, I'll make you a hot water bottle if you want?"

He stretched again before finally sitting still. He looked out the window, staring at the low streetlights whizzing by.

"No, that's alright, you've done enough for me already, dearest."

He closed his eyes again and reached a hand toward the stick to gently pat the hand that sat atop of it.

Jessica felt her eyes brim with tears; she doesn't deserve this. This much love and acceptance.

For all she's done? All she did was break his heart.

"Alright, honey bunny."

She responded in a calm tone, her free gloved hand coming up to wipe away a stray tear.

When they got back, they just munched on some snacks, eager to go to bed; Roger ate more carrots than he was allowed but he hadn't eaten well for days, so Jessica allowed it. She hadn't really eaten either and even though she had a full fridge sitting in front of her, all she ate was two slices of processed cheese. Toon cheese, so it was processed - processed cheese.

Roger made her smile when he asked her if she was okay, worried about her food intake. Jessica nodded and he kissed her on the cheek in response. Then he thundered up the stairs to get ready for bed. She just sat for a while, thinking of how bittersweet this all was; she was at home, the gingham table cloth (that sat atop the circular breakfast table) beneath her fingers, itchy and familiar, the pots and pans hanging as they normally did, just below the pale yellow cabinets, the living room behind her: open plan minus the small wall that the stove was stuck to and to her left, the photo encased in a dark oak frame: her hair was curled up to her cheeks and her veil was pushed back to fall just above her shoulders, Roger's ring and eyes caught the light as their heads were jutting from the backseat window, waving and smiling. Smiling from a window of a car dressed to look like a carriage. It was crude, cardboard and paint but she couldn't have wished for a better automobile, one that would take her and her handsome prince away to their castle where they would live happily ever after.

Everything was the same. But everything was different, although nothing had really been said, a raft had been driven between her and her husband. They had a great relationship and Jessica had no need to wonder if Roger felt the same because they trusted each other. Jessica felt like she had violated that trust.

Suddenly she felt unsafe; things like this had happened between her and Maroon before, disagreements and fights, she knew he had a clear dislike for her. He probably thought what everyone else did: that she only married Roger because he could buy the kind of carrot that you aren't supposed to eat. Yet she started dating him way before that, she couldn't count the years on one hand - or even two! That they'd been together, so either he was stupid or just looking for any excuse to get rid of her.

Maroon definitely figured out that Roger was her weakness, perhaps he finally realised that she truly loved him, or more likely not. He didn't seem like the type to take women seriously.

What she was worried about was, would it happen again? Well, she was worried about a lot of things, despite looks being deceiving.

She liked her life, she loved her husband, she liked her job. Why couldn't things just be normal?

She didn't want to think about it anymore, so she decided as a token of her forgiveness she'd put a ham in the oven and cook it overnight, Roger would like that. A real ham too.

She turned off the downstairs lights when all was safe and slowly made her way upstairs. Roger peeled open an eye to meet both of hers as soon as she appeared in their bedroom doorway, her silhouette etched in the darkness. He was already in bed and had appeared to be dozing off but her honey bunny had great hearing, bless his heart.

"Wondered where you were." he sleepily mumbled.

Jessica managed a smile as she shut their door and felt her way to their en suite. A tug on the dangling cord and the lights flickered on to reveal: the walk-in shower to her right, stainless pearl white tiles and a spotless mirror with her image staring back at her. Her tired face a reminder of the emotional burden she carried on her back. _It was her weapon to use but she'd give it up for him every time_. For some reason, being here tonight, in the bathroom she's lived in for almost four years, she was suddenly reminded of how her first apartment's bathroom looked.

"I was getting dinner ready for tomorrow, wanted to do something special."

"You work too hard." she heard him shift, "do your feet hurt?"

She looked into the eyes of her reflection, toothbrush inches away from her open mouth. Her feet ached and she kept moving them on the tiled floor to find a cold spot that hadn't been ruined by her heat.

He knew her too well.

"Jessica?"

"Oh...sorry, yes, they do."

Her ears were then filled with the sound of bristles and toothpaste rubbing against her teeth, too much so to notice that her husband was moving around on the duvet and rearranging their pillows.

After spitting into the sink and moving into the bedroom was when she saw it:

Roger was sitting on the end of her side of the bed, he had moved his pillows onto hers, so she'd be elevated. They were arranged so that to lay on them would feel like a fluffy cloud. One pillow sat in front of Roger and she knew it was for her foot.

"Oh darling, you don-"

Roger interrupted her by patting on the pillow in front of him.

"Come on, my love, lay down."

Jessica couldn't help but smile however she felt guilty when she followed his instructions. She felt her arms and legs relax and her head lulled back when Roger started to massage her tired sole, making her suddenly realise she had been tensing for so long.

He kneaded into her foot with so much love that Jessica felt herself tear up again. Her toon heart pounded in her paper and ink chest, the feeling of being unable to hold back any more abundant in her clogged throat, she let a cry escape her.

Roger's ears shot up and he quickly rushed to her side.

"Are you alright, did I hurt you?"

She pushed herself into sitting upright, balling as she shook her head.

"No, but I hurt you- and I need you to know I'm sorry."

"It's okay-"

"No, it's not! I- I never wanted to hurt you, please believe me! Mr Valiant only just did, please I-"

"Jessica, I know that, you're my wife, my best friend, I know that someone-"

"Who made you do it?"

He asked after a pause, a moment of realisation that told him this was not okay. His voice now low and comforting yet oddly protective and scary. But Jessica wasn't afraid, Roger was cradling her hand and rubbing circles into her back.

"M-Mr maroon, h-he said if I didn't pose for the pictures you -you wouldn't work again, I wanted you to be happy-"

"I'm not happy when you're not happy." Roger answered suddenly defensive but still caring.

"You weren't supposed to know- Acme wasn't supposed to die."

"Jessica, I love you, even if I would never have known, I hate to see you in mental torture! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because, I didn't want to ruin your chances, Acme was already getting in my space and I was too scared to do anything-" she hiccupped, "I didn't want you to think I was lying or someone may try to convince you that I was, people don't trust me and I-"

"But I do."

"I know-"

"So why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you would have walked out of Maroon and companies wouldn't hire you if they thought you were fired and me as your wife doesn't help." She cried. Hands wet with big, toon tears.

"You wouldn't be able to find work, you'd fade and be unhappy, I would **never** want that for you and- it'd be all my fault just for being me."

She coughed and spluttered. _It was easier for me to get hurt, never him, no one would hurt him._

"A-and then you wouldn't love me anymore."

She felt hands stroke her hair and lips kiss her scalp.

"I'm sorry... but remember, no matter what I'll always love you."

She looked up to meet his eyes.

"Just being with you is enough for me not to fade."

She was so happy when she saw him appear from the manhole, so glad he was finally safe that she was more concerned about making sure that their last moments together were happy ones. She held back her tears despite desperately wanting to explain herself however all she could manage to say to appease her guilt was that she loved him, she loved him more than any woman has ever loved a rabbit. In that moment, she hoped that that was enough.

" _To me, you're my big break, Jessica._ "

Her green eyes widened and caught the light when she pulled her head from her lap. With several hiccups she smiled wide, teeth shining in the same aura emanating from the moonlight outside their thin blinds. Blue, round tears flowed as she dove into him, kissing him passionately.

"Oh, Roger! My hero." She nuzzled into him, arms around him tightly.

"Your hero who gives foot rubs?" He smirked, then a cartoonish sound effect filled the room as he winked.

"Oh, _yes_..." she moaned comically, before kissing him squarely on his fluffy cheek.

When her feet met solid ground after being suspended in midair and almost showered in dip for what felt like hours. She found herself bouncing between emotions and happiness prevailed so, she did what she always did when she was happy: shower Roger in kisses. The will was another relief and the win after win that were those ten minutes made her feel like nothing could ever go wrong again. But when it was just them, in the security of their room, moonlight casting a shadow of Roger's ever dancing ears on the wall, she knew she could freely let everything out. After a bit more painful brooding of course.

She was analytical; people twisted her feelings but she came to the conclusion that taking back control by accepting the one thing she knew people would notice, would make _her_ the one who was in control of herself. How people viewed her didn't matter; she was just doing what felt right and yes, that meant she oftentimes seemed smutty unintentionally although toons didn't have the privilege of getting to design their anatomy and how that in turn, influenced their views and sometimes thoughts. The way she was drawn resulted in a flirtatious strut despite Jessica meaning nothing by it, once she realised that, it didn't really matter what others impressions were. She considered herself a liberated woman and she'd always be everlastingly grateful to have found Roger, who understood her, loved her and _trusted_ her.

He still did.

_'and people say I'm out his league'._


	2. Real love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After not going to work for months because of his boss' murder, Roger returns to dish out some overdue justice.

"Do you like your tea, honey bunny?"

"Yes, Jessica dear, I'm just jumpy."

They were outside of Maroon Cartoon studios; inside a cement and brick cafe directly opposite it. Jessica wore a blue round hat, a teal, wool effect coat with amber buttons and a white fluffy trim decorating the neck and sleeves, black stockings and a knee length turquoise skirt.

Roger ordered Jessica the hot chocolate she was looking at and for himself a green tea after Jessica said it might calm his nerves. Their drinks sat on a circular mahogany table, a table which was right beside the full-length window, the window which advertised that day's specials in thick marker on the glass. She caught Roger stealing glances outside to the studio, gripping his cup and chewing his lips.

"You certainly are." she frowned, "sweetheart, it's going to be alright."

Roger finally took a sip of his drink, his green coat bunching up around his elbows as he held it up to his face. The coat which Jessica bought for him last Christmas. It was woven from toon wool by a toon sheep. Red, yellow and blue wool were sprinkled in amongst the bottle green, Jessica smiled at how he worriedly checked for any tea on the sleeves, he was so grateful for it.

"Besides, you might get some additional contracts from competing companies, my honey bunny is very popular."

Jessica smiled proudly. The comment also meant to reassure herself; one of her anxieties about the whole Acme situation was Roger being unable to find work, Mr Maroon had told her that he'd make doubly sure that Roger wouldn't work in this town again if she didn't agree to his demands, his powerful word of mouth enough to secure her husband's downfall. But as evil and corporate as it sounded, now that Mr Maroon kicked the bucket and his unassuming brother took over, it made it so companies could get a better offer on toon actors (Mr Maroon was a stubborn man after all, Jessica knew all too well) or even just let their offer be seen.

She took his hand from across the table and smiled.

"I'll help you with deciding on what's best."

Roger finally seemed to relax by the way he slumped and rested his head atop of his hand; he gripped Jessica's hand tighter before pulling it towards him to kiss it sweetly.

Inside Maroon studios, Roger seemed to tense up again although Herman was there and greeted them kindly. But soon fell back into his usual way of speaking after he noticed Roger was far more nervous than he should've been.

After Mr Maroon was killed, his company was now up for grabs, unfortunately he had a next of kin. His brother wasn't exactly a cartoon connoisseur and therefore decided to employ help from the such. Apparently, they required every toon to audition for their roles again and check their ratings to properly decide if their reputation had soured after Maroon's death. Ratings or more rather, ticket sales from their shows; Jessica liked the sound of ratings better. If it had soured, they'd discuss plans to slowly push them back into the spotlight or...something else.

Jessica felt it was a bit much, what was the audition even for? To test them? Make them nervous for no reason? Sounded cruel really.

But admittedly, Roger was right to be nervous; he was suspected of murder for the majority of two days, although even then Jessica was sure he'd keep his job.

A man who bore resemblance to Maroon appeared in the waiting room ripe with toons: chairs were overcrowded with toon actors and their children, wailing and quiet mumblings congested the room, nervous anticipation ripe in the air as people fingered through magazines looking for _something_ to do. When the look alike walked in heads shot up in synchronicity but fell back down limply when the man spoke:

"Roger Rabbit?"

Jessica took his hand and quickly decided to join him in looking over his statistics, the Mr Maroon look alike seemed to raise an eyebrow at that, but nevertheless turned on his heel and guided them into his office, who's door now bore "Mr. Harry Maroon".

The office was completely different, bare walls and pale floorboards surrounded a long table that sat alone in the light shining in from the windows.

Jessica grabbed a stray chair from the corner of the room and placed it next to Roger's already prepared seat.

"Sorry, who are you?"

She looked up at the man in quiet surprise, she looked to Roger and she knew that he could read her _apparently_ unnoticeable miffed face. He nodded to her like they had just shared an entire conversation with their eyes.

"Im sorry, how rude of me, this is Jessica, my wife."

She nodded.

"Oh, okay...urm, anyway."

Then a look of realisation crossed his face.

"Oh! Yes, I remember you."

Then he looked down to collect some documents from the drawer of his desk. Jessica frowned when she realised, he meant he'd seen her in the papers, papers detailing a side of her that didn't exist. Yes, she didn't care what others thought but when they believed to have 'evidence' of something she didn't care about well, that was a whole other ball game. Roger, perhaps sensing her upset, touched her arm lovingly and made a face which said: "don't listen to the stupid, man". That made Jessica giggle behind her hand.

Oblivious Maroon redirected his attention to the two of them and moved a stack of documents onto his desk.

"Alright, first let's take a look at your last physical...is your ink still pigmented?"

Roger pulled the arm of his coat up his arm and outstretched it to Mr Harry Maroon.

"You tell me."

Maroon looked surprised at the sudden hostility in Roger's tone, Jessica was also momentarily stunned. But when he gave her a sly smile, she felt confused and flustered all at once.

Mr Maroon coughed forcefully, less composed than before.

"Okay, well." He took some charts from the pile of papers, "any questions before we look at the ratings?"

"Yes, actually."

Jessica looked to her husband, suspense in her chest at this sudden change of attitude.

"Okay, fire away."

"Not to be rude but were you close to your brother?"

"Er, not particularly-"

"Alright, what a shame truly, believe me I sympathise but, how can I put this..."

Roger comically looked up to the ceiling, hand on his chin while he dramatically gnawed on his lip. He appeared confident; Jessica could see his tail quivering slightly.

"I don't think I could work for a company whose namesake violated my wife's boundaries."

Silence.

"Wh-what?"

"I know its immature to bring this up months after his passing, again dreadfully sorry-"

Roger patted his hand from across the desk-

"But even then, what would you do if your boss forced your wife to get close to another man because your job was apparently, 'at stake'."

Roger asked. He held a strong serious stare as opposed to Maroon's drifting eyes; Jessica felt her heart hammer in her chest, her head fuzzy at how heroic he was.

"I-I suspect I wouldn't work for-"

"Good answer, you can forget those charts, but I will take these-" Roger grabbed a file labelled 'additional contracts' and held it up to Maroon's face.

"Something tells me I'll be needing this." Then he sarcastically smiled.

Roger then looked to Jessica and with a genuine soft gaze, presented an open hand to her; she took it before he had time to outstretch his smallest finger.

"We'll be leaving now, come on Jessica dear-" he stood up from his chair and she followed suit.

"Let's go to a movie, or maybe a bakery! Oh, and goodbye, Harry." He jokingly waved by shimmying his fingers.

He looked to his wife, who was smiling wide underneath her veil of red hair.

"Jessica dearest, say goodbye to the man."

Jessica had to restrain herself to not burst out laughing at her husband's smug face and voice; all she could muster was a small nod towards Mr Maroon. Her throat then croaked and her lips released a spitting, spluttering noise as she stifled giggles.

Roger started heartily laughing at her. Looking up her with genuine love and adoration; he tugged her towards the door when he felt like they had pretty much outstayed their welcome. He held his onto his stomach, laughter hurting him, as he opened the door with his other hand. Jessica was stumbling slightly and snorting in between guffaws.

Once the doors to his office shut and they gave each other a moment to compose themselves, Jessica blinked away the wetness in her eyes and grabbed her husband, showering him in kisses.

"Oh, Roger! You were so authoritative and strong willed! So powerful and justice seeking!" She praised in-between kisses.

Then she pulled herself back and cupped both her hands together, pressing them to her cheek; smiling widely at his star struck face.

"You _truly_ are my hero!"

Roger laughed modestly.

"Well! What can I say...?" he shrugged, "only siding with the light of my life."

The cool air of the morning hit their faces refreshingly as they left the studio. Outside seemed brighter now and Jessica felt the urge to be productive, stay outside all day with her dearest and eat fluffy on the inside and crunchy on the outside muffins.

"Look lovecups, maybe there was a fire."

She looked to her left and noticed a flurry of people in white dress shirts, pants with suspenders and cameras in their hands and atop their shoulders. They were stopping and picturing toons who had left Maroon before them, probably eager for some tears. Ugh.

"They look like reporters, dear."

Roger's eyes instinctively widened.

"Jeepers, we better scram, come on Jessica!"

He started running to their car which was parked across the way. Jessica's hair whipped up at the wind generated from his rabbit speed but her red curls settled back into its seamless wave effortlessly. She reached a hand to her husband whom now resembled a white blur.

"Wait!"

Roger halted on his heels animatedly and spun around to meet her eyes. She was running to him, somehow able to in thin blue heels.

"Let's give them something good to report on."

The next morning, Jessica smiled at the paper. Pinkie finger lifted delicately as she held a small cup of coffee. She wore a fluffy pink dressing gown atop of a slightly sheer white slip dress and the palms of her hands pleasantly tingled from last night's patty cake. The newspaper's front page reflected her feelings exactly! Minus the tiny articles pasted to the side about the latest new diet _everyone_ needed.

"ROGER RABBIT QUITS MAROON; MARRIAGE AFIRE WITH PASSION"

An image of her and Roger outside Maroon Cartoon studios sat below it, where in: Jessica was knelt to her husband's level, her hands cupping his face as she kissed him on the lips. Obviously invisible but noticeable was that Jessica wasn't just pecking her husband, no. She wanted everyone to know that the Jessica they saw in the tabloids months ago wasn't real, that she loved her husband. So, she used her tongue. Her head was tilted slightly to the right, the light and shadows of her neck visible in the image. Roger was holding the hands that held his face gently as the sunlight of yesterday morning danced on his closed eyelids.

She breathed in slowly and sipped her coffee.

He was so nervous when they had stepped out that morning to talk to Maroon's brother, chittering his teeth whenever the car spat and struggled. She really had to get it looked at. However, she realised after a dinner of roast ham and vegetables, that Roger was nervous about what _Herman_ would say after knowing that he had quit. So much so that he had walked her out of the studio before Herman even had a chance to notice them. He had said he was so steamed about what Maroon had done although for the sake of her not having to relive anything that happened with him, he didn't mention him at all. After all, Roger knew that Jessica prided herself in not being an object. Instead, he focused all of his time on making Jessica feel loved. He tried cooking fish one day when she didn't know what to make, it was overcooked a little but still great. But as soon as he sat in that chair across from Maroon 2.0, he was ready to dish out some overdue justice. Jessica being there wasn't ideal, he didn't want to remind her of anything, as said. But she had told him honestly that she wasn't offended at all.

She had a shift tonight but before that she wanted to make a cake for Roger, she'd decorated it with sprinkles, marshmallows and carrot shavings, it'd be delicious!

Things were going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liked writing this chapter. I really want to write more of Jessica and Roger being giggly. .. is that a word. Anyway don't know how often this'll be updated. Hopefully every week although I am starting college again soon so who knows :)


	3. Honey, Honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger looks over his contracts and visits Eddie to tell him the good news.

_"Okay, you're going with, 'picnic', Ethel? Is that the right answer?"_

_A suspenseful crescendo of drums akin to a pumping heartbeat started, just as the camera focused in on the nervous contestant's face, her perfectly curled and primped updo reflecting the spinning strobe lights that began as soon as she gave her answer._

_"I'm sorry John, it's birdwatching."_

"Darn it!" Jessica lamented, "I was sure it was sightseeing."

"You'll get it next time, dear." Roger called from the kitchen.

Jessica relaxed back into the couch with a sigh. She had finished work at the ink and paint club about 2 hours ago, she didn't always ache when she got back from work but today, she did so Roger had made her a hot foot bath and a nice, warm cup of tea. She had long since taken her watercolour makeup off and slipped into her pyjamas and night gown. The living room would've been bathed in darkness if it wasn't for the squarish TV casting light on Jessica and her pink, polyester clad legs; the window behind the television giving her a view of mountains in the distance and cars flying by, albeit in the darkness of the blue night.

The kitchen where Roger sat was directly behind Jessica. The light from that room pouring into the living room and reaching up the back of the brown, plush couch. The click of Roger's type writer chimed and reverberated off of the hanging pots and pans below the cupboards. He wore his clear framed glasses and scratched his head in confusion before tossing the cause of his perplexity to the opposite end of the table.

He had six offers in total to consider and admittedly it did boost his confidence some but this was tiring, he had to balance all of the wages against each other, how many hours he'd work a week, his holidays...He'd been working for Maroon for 3 years and all he did there was audition for his role and BOOM! He was given his work times and pay without any say. He was a nobody before that; some people knew him when he'd perform stand up in small diners but still, this was new territory.

_"We'll be right back after these short messages!"_

The start-up of cheery music and a generic female speaker caused Jessica to sit up and dry her feet with a towel Roger had put out for her. She tightened the cord on her gown just as the generic voice described an _amazing_ brand of soap that just banished mould and stains.

"How're you getting along?"

"Mmh?..." Roger was staring down at a piece of paper very intensely, when it registered what Jessica had said he met her eyes and perked up.

"Oh! Yes, ur...alright." he smiled sheepishly as he took his glasses off.

Jessica bunched up her shoulders and her bare, nude lips turned upwards in a smile.

"Why don't you tell me your favourite so far?"

She asked as she pulled out the chair parallel to Roger and took a seat. He nodded; quite unsure as he collected three papers up from the scattered pile of six; pulled the page from the typewriter out then passed them across the table to her. She scanned them quietly until Roger asked:

"Did I do alright?" Referring to his mathematics.

Jessica smiled.

"You did good...Oh, Walt Disney made it to the finals?"

Roger grinned nervously.

"Weell...Maybe..." he spoke in an embarrassed but happy tone, but then fell into a upset rumble afterwards:

"But I'm worried about being censored...Is that a good way of putting it? I don't want to change too much." Roger sulked and flicked a stray crumb off of the table.

"You never know, maybe you could send a counter offer."

"I don't want to push my luck."

Jessica gave a sympathetic smile at that.

"Well...the offer looks good on its own..."

"I know!" Roger suddenly piped up, hands straight against the table as he raised himself up slightly, emphasising his frustration.

"I shouldn't even be debating it! What a pathetic fool I am, I would be able to meet Goofy!" Roger gasped, "What a dream!"

Jessica shook her head.

"You are not pathetic, love" she handed the papers back to him-

"I agree with your decision to be wary, how intelligent of my dearest, for considering the different changes in toons after they joined Disney."

Roger waved her off comically, a joyful smile dressing his red face.

"Oh stop!"

Jessica giggled behind her hand and Roger met her eyes with a smile at the sound of her laughter. Suddenly; Roger gave her a worried look.

"Jessica dear? You are taking care of yourself, right?"

Her heart melted at his concern but she was confused as to why he'd ask such a question. Like he could read her mind, Roger followed up his query:

"It's just, the shadows of your face look harsher...and a bit pale all at once."

Jessica blinked rapidly.

"Tonight must've really took it out of me, sorry for worrying you...I haven't looked in the mirror-"

"No it's alright-" Roger shook his hands speedily whilst Jessica stood up from her chair, "I just want to know if I could make you some chicken soup? Or maybe fix you some left over cake?"

Jessica swooned at his concern.

"It's alright dearest, I'm fine, really."

Roger gave her a suspicious look: eyebrow raised and finger against chin, not really inconspicuous but that wouldn't be her Roger. She just chuckled at his gaze and that seemed enough to chase away his worries.

"Alright, but I'll make you something small anyway, no wife of mine will go hungry! No sir, no ma'am, not on my watch!"

He insisted passionately, finger pointed to the sky. Jessica bit her lip with a large grin.

"Okay, thank you, dear."

Roger nodded proudly, a smile and half lidded look affixed to his face, like he was the leader of a successful marching band and knew he was important. Then he beckoned her over to plant a kiss on her cheek and raised up the papers for her to see again.

"Sooo...? What do you think?"

"You should give it a go, with Disney I mean, what an opportunity!"

"You think I'm good enough to mingle with such...geniuses!?"

Jessica stood back slightly in amused awe at the question.

"Don't be silly, as I've said before, you're so much funnier than Goofy."

Roger looked up at her with adoration and flattery; he shifted the papers on the desk before he found a blank one, fitted it into the typewriter and cracked his fingers, preparing to write back.

"Now!" He announced, confidence radiating in his voice.

"Jessica dear, be a lamb and sit on the couch, would you? I'll heat up the kettle for your foot bath as soon as I'm finished with homework."

A 'shave and a haircut' knock was tapped onto the wood of Eddie Valiant, toon detective's door. At the resounding noise, he looked up from his desk, his concentration interrupted. On his desk was an open file detailing his latest case. Pencil was in hand, circling important information and jotting down possible leads before his unexpected visitor arrived.

Eddie pushed himself up from his office chair. After he unlocked the latch with a satisfying cling and swung the door open, Roger greeted him with a cumbersome grin.

"Two bits!"

He sing-songed, spreading out his arms theatrically as he did.

"Good news, Eddie!" He continued to chime; hopping into Eddie's room enthusiastically.

"Is losing your job good news?" Eddie quipped.

"Pfft! That's a load of it! I quit, Eddie, you silly."

The door clicked shut and Eddie walked back to sit behind his desk, the way he moved was steady and perhaps a bit threatening if Roger hadn't already met him; his feet fell straight into the wooden floor like magnets, his strides big with a chest that slightly jutted forward.

"Yea...Okay, so what's the headline?"

"Just read this."

Roger tossed Eddie the envelope containing the original contract and his reply. Eyes scanned the address and Eddie's mouth opened at the realisation; all he could muster was a look to Roger, a raised eyebrow and a splutter.

"Well, that's big."

Roger took the envelope back in a swipe, Eddie's hat left circling his head at the velocity.

"I know right!" Roger was bubbling over with excitement, standing on Eddie's desk and making big, swooping motions as he talked.

"The post office is only a ways away; I figured I'd pop in, haven't seen you or the missus in a while"

Eddie rolled his eyes and stiffly removed his hat. He only had it on whilst in his office because he had just gotten back from questioning someone and was too caught up in work to take it off. Although he was secretly happy to see Roger again after all he's given him but being entrapped in work was a welcoming feeling, he'd gotten used to quite quickly, and he wanted to get back to it.

"Girlfriend." He corrected.

Roger shrugged with a smug look.

"Girlfriend, wife...Me and Jessica started talking about our honeymoon on our second date."

Eddie sat up in his chair, not sure if he should be surprised or not, knowing how Jessica and Roger were with each other.

"You were moving pretty fast then, eh?"

"Well, I dunno, would 6 months of dating before marriage be considered fast?"

"Yes-"

Roger waved him off; Eddie was doubly sure that he hadn't even heard his response.

"But I don't think that's any of your business, Eddie." He fell back into his chair with a worrying clang, "the girlfriend...?" Roger waited.

"Alright, nothing notable to report on-"

"Happy?" Roger asked with a curious grin.

"Very. How about your home life?"

Roger took both ends of his bow tie and tightened it with a jiggle of his arms and a flash of pearly white teeth.

"Let's just say it's been very, _'animated'_."

Eddie pulled a grimace and Roger laughed at his upturned lip. Eager to move on, Eddie flipped through his work and picked up his pencil just to spin it on his finger.

"Wonder why _they_ sent you a contract...you _were_ suspected of murder-"

"Don't ruin this for me, Eddie! Like Jessica said, I'm very pop-u-lar."

Eddie shrugged, chewing on his pencil softly.

"If you say so."

Thundering steps suddenly made both heads turn to the door, the shadow of a toon visible and fast approaching through the blurry, translucent glass of Eddie's small door window. The tight lock apparently no match for the popular character: a beak clad head that adorned a neat bow atop of it, flowy frills that made up their dress bounced as they ran- the door flew open with such force that Roger and Eddie closed their eyes and used their arms as shields. Intense blue eyes greeted them, long black lashes stood unmoving and long, white genuine pearls glistened and chest heaved as she breathed out the words:

"Mr. Valiant, I need your help!"

Roger gave Eddie a look.

"Daisy, I'll be with you in a mo-"

"It's important!" She squawked but then lowered her voice and used a feathered hand to cover the left side of her beak as she hushed:

"It's about you-know-who."


	4. Buddy Holly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We travel back to when Roger and Jessica first met but how does this connect to you-know-who?

-back to the past-

The year is 1935, a time of depression which continued to burn powerfully with the bitter fuel of unemployment feeding its flames. The clouds of war were dark in the air as innocent people began to lose their rights, countries were under attack and it was only a matter of time before something unspeakable was to happen. Fortunately or unfortunately rather, Jessica was able to continue life as best as she could, with the limitations of the depression but still free to an extent, although the fear of what could happen and at any moment nonetheless, did cause her to feel like she was floating a few steps behind her own body.

Since the 1930's the number of women working rose significantly and while it was still considered 'fairly normal' for a women to live with her parents until she was about 20, then marry without having to work a day in her life- of course until she became an unappreciated housewife. It wasn't for a toon; Jessica was drawn on a piece of paper in ink and was immediately shoved into the modelling business, wearing clothing that would later appear in a magazine which people could then buy, sometimes posing for different advertisements, smiling blindly and holding in a straight palm: a bar of soap or something even more stereotypically 'womanly'.

Her work wasn't hindered that badly by the depression, because so called 'women's work' were jammed into industries that weren't significantly impacted by the stock market. Although that didn't mean life was just as easy. No; pay had changed and prices had increased. buying things were a nightmare and some days Jessica was forced to eat nothing for the sake of being able to pay rent. Her situation worsened by her artist and colourist taking a significant amount of her money.

Tonight was a painful reminder of that. She rung her hands and hovered over the only glass of nutrition in her tiny house: a cold cup of coffee. It sat looking up at her from the low down, unsanded oak table in the centre of her 'living space', a radio beside it buzzed and fizzled out in-between a recording of Betty Boop's biggest hits. She licked her lips and stared daggers down at the half full cup but strangely, she let her stomach continue to grumble, a mantra steady in her thoughts: _save it for later, save it for later, save it for later._ She knew she'd need the energy in the morning if she was ever going to make it to work.

_Bang, bang, bang!_

She heaved a heavy sigh as the new tenant continued to unload what sounded like a whole circus' worth of luggage into the apartment above her. Deciding to stop her brooding, she took her cup and covered it in foil before setting it down on the pale, grey counter of her cramped 'kitchenette' for tomorrow morning. 'Kitchenette' and 'living space' because Jessica only lived in one room but she tried her best to divide it into different sections. The 'grey counter' actually a tall, smallish table but she liked to tell herself otherwise. 

The sounds of her upstairs neighbour soon turned quiet and oddly soothing as the occasional shuffle reminded Jessica that only a thin ceiling separated her from being completely alone. A gentle hum of a radio emanated from said neighbour, Jessica thought she recognised it as a silly symphony number, it'd be nice to meet a fellow toon in this human's world and that thought alone comforted her as her eyelids fluttered closed from exhaustion.

The pointless chatter between assistants and uptight business men, the smell of stale tea and fur coats and the sounds of leather clogs on varnished wood; slowly built up to a booming clang, these were the things that brought Jessica out of her sudden state of daydreaming. She shook her head to hopefully diminish her nagging want to go home, causing her short and curled hairdo to bounce fluidly beside both her rosy checks, high thin brows, and severally underlined lips.

Jessica held her hair in place delicately; not even holding it necessarily rather, almost grazing it with her long fingers. breathing deeply, she raised up from the wooden chair free of a cushion or covering in her tiny 'dressing room', (more of a closet really) to look over her outfit for the shoot: a knee length, yellow dress that had several tiers and strips of lace sewn to just the right effect, puffed sleeves and a high collar. She appreciated the number, she supposed fashion was one of her predetermined interests, as she already knew all of the names of essential fabrics since the day pencil met her paper.

"Miss, Krupnick?"

Almost like it wasn't even her interest at all.

The soft pattering of heels on vinyl were the backdrop to her thoughts of her fate as a toon. What if it wasn't for her liking of fashions? she'd be stuck in a job she'd ultimately despise. She didn't love her job, she more liked listening and imitating what she heard on the radio like a parrot rather than standing stoic for pictures but it wasn't unbearable. Even with luck on her side with that first hurdle, there was still the worry of being left unemployable forever if the whole 'buying dresses from a magazine' business were to become dried up and barren, how was she even supposed to make a living? This was all she knew, she was drawn in a studio just like this, a studio which squeezed her into a dress and sat her in front of blinding lights and clunky cameras on her first day on Earth. It wasn't possible to kill a toon, she knew this and she thought that the act of telling herself something so obvious was supposed to be calming; instead, it left her feeling strangely empty and scared.

_Empty_

She set her hands on her generous hips and beamed a big, fake smile.

The flash of the camera stunning her but Jessica's expression didn't falter.

_Knock knock_

" ** _Yes_**?"

Mr Harris grumbled in tired frustration at the unexpected visitor. His pen encased in a black and glossy barrel dropped onto the the desk below him with a spiralling pang; he was holding both sides of his sturdy bald head in his calloused hands whilst mumbling into his grey moustache about his outrageous headache.

The large dark oak door creaked open at his reply and in stepped Jessica Krupnick, the beautiful toon woman of seven heads tall and fluttering lashes with sleepy lids. She pushed the door closed with her curvaceous behind, the action causing him to perk up in his seat despite Jessica meaning nothing by the action, it's just how she walked based on her unnatural proportions. She wore a short-curled hairdo painted red and her blushed cheeks were prominent against her pale skin. she had changed in and out of multiple outfits that day but the time on Mr Harris' clock predicted: that the night sky was sure to be steadily making itself known and the cold of the evening would be settling in so, she wore a long wool coat with a triangular collar, it was finished with a fluffy faux fur trim, a matching rounded hat and smart black heels.

"Jessica? Isn't it time you went home?" He asked, no hint of shame across his features as he glanced south of her face.

"Yes, urm, I just wanted to ask something important."

He sat more comfortably in his chair. Then motioned to Jessica with a twist of his wrist to elaborate.

She shifted in her spot on the brown carpet of cube block patterning and brought a fist up to her mouth to discretely clear her throat behind it.

"Do you think...maybe that, you know-" she breathed in some more confidence, "If you had a connect that works in music or-"

"Why would _you_ need that?"

The air felt thick with sudden disgust and disapproval. Her skin, prickled and she felt her heart beat fast and tight under her thick coat.

" _Well_ , I'd like to go into that business, I don't know if-"

"Jessica, it really isn't the time to be job hunting right now."

"I know it's not ideal-"

"It's absolutely ridiculous."

Jessica didn't wear her heart on her sleeve and maybe that's thanks to her design as well; she couldn't control it honestly, her presumed mean and distant behaviour. Sometimes she didn't realise when she was being particularly rude or in some eyes, promiscuous. It felt better to keep herself to herself and not say much when spoken to. This was further cemented after spending more than a few hours around men. Hours of which took place on the day she was brought to life.

"Im just worried about being stuck forever," Jessica uncharacteristically let slip, mind jumping from place to place. Then she added to diverge from her confession:

"All I'm asking is for a name that-that maybe I could look into-"

" _Jessica_ , just go home, don't be so greedy."

She felt her face grow hot in embarrassment. In anger, sadness.

"A second job for what? jewellery?"

"pin-money, Jessica? Don't be so vain, Krupnick."

_This is just why you should speak as little as possible._ Jessica repeated over in her head. She had dreamt of singing for years and it had stayed that way _for_ _years_. The depression must've been messing with her mind, the lack of food and the constant downer that was the atmosphere causing her sudden lack of judgement.

Her feet hurt and blistered as she marched in her heels, every stomp she made on the concrete sidewalk stung but it didn't stop her from firmly landing her feet on the sturdy path below with a bang each time. The sky was a dark grey, clouds the same and thick, so much so that the evening star was merely a faint flicker in the sky. Her arms were held stiff to her sides, eyes stuck to the ground; she found her way to her apartment complex despite the visual impairment.

She was so angry, so focused on replaying the events of what happened that day in her mind that, she instead put all of her outside energy into zipping up the stairs in twos and marching through the corridors. So, invested in her own self hatred and regret that she didn't notice the toon rabbit until she stumbled into him. He outstretched his arms; wobbling in an attempt to steady himself but despite his best efforts, he comically fell backwards.

She gasped at the blue, yellow and pink stars decorating his head, shooing them away like flies after she knelt down beside him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you!" She pleaded. Overwhelmed with the need to express that she wasn't usually this unpredictable, the sadness she felt in that moment with Mr Harris coming back to build in her throat.

"Are you alright, Mr...?"

The stars which she had wafted slowly reached the cracked white ceiling, they shattered into pieces as soon as they made contact with the textured surface.

The sound of the breaking seemed to cause his eyes to twitch, twitch and scrunch tight before opening to reveal blue sockets with darker blue irises. Something about his uniquely coloured eyes, eyes that caught the bright hallway lights amazingly and gazed up to meet hers before anything else caused Jessica's mind to catch up with her. A toon...another toon! She had only ever met other toons during work or when _they_ were working. This was exactly what she had hoped for. She only wished the world would become more toon dense as people continued to draw. It was 1935, the first living toon was only invented in 1908 so all there was to do was wait.

She thought herself silly; It was so like a toon to notice enough to wave away floating stars but then _not_ notice a toon laying below them.

His head rose and his body followed. He shook his head, ears of white dancing fluidly like ballet in reaction to his movements. She stood up as he did and she felt an excited smile attempt to tug at her features when he extended a hand to her.

"Rabbit! Roger. Don't worry about that, I was loitering here anyway."

He pointed with his other gloved hand to the bulletin board beside him. Jessica recognised it as the events board. The landlord must've been trying to make this apartment block seem more like a b&b, a place where people _wanted_ to socialise. A weird choice given how there wasn't even room for a diner downstairs. But it was a kind gesture given everyone's situation.

She took his hand after a moment of thought. She decided that it wouldn't hurt; after all she really appreciated how he looked directly at her face.

"Thank you, I haven't seen another toon around here before."

Their handshake stopped and Jessica watched in an almost weird fascination as Roger's arm fluidly fell to his side, he was probably running on a higher frame rate per second, impressive.

"Me neither, I came from Oregon just yesterday."

"Oh!" Jessica exclaimed, surprising them both.

"Are you the neighbour I heard moving around last night?"

The hesitation gave her a second to realise that her question sounded rude and almost accusatory; she moved her hands frantically, back to apologising.

"Oh! I'm sorry I didn't-"

But then he laughed heartily. Not a malicious laugh like humans dished out and on occasion, toons. No, a real, _kind_ laugh.

"No, no! It's okay! I'm sorry about that, I thought about yelling down into the floorboards an apology, but something about that didn't seem right."

Jessica felt encouraged by his infectious happiness that she smiled and laughed at his joke. Her breath hitched and she snorted slightly; at the sound she stopped and covered her mouth in a _hopefully_ conspicuous way, one that didn't show she was clearly embarrassed by the reaction. But if Roger noticed it, he did well not to show it. He didn't mention it or even make that big a fuss. She liked that.

"Nice laugh!" He continued to smile but after a moment he stopped, leaned forward, eyebrow raised head bobbing as if to ask, 'your name?'.

"...er?" He rolled his wrist, waiting. Confirming her suspicions.

"Ha...erm, Miss." Jessica grinned.

"Miss...?"

"Oh, Krupnick! Jessica."

His smile returned and Jessica found comfort in the alien gesture.

"Lovely to meet you Jessica, I'd love to stay and chat but I really should work on my material." He patted the pocket of his brown slacks which were gingham and rolled up at the hem. His matching blazer reacting like a balloon next to hair as he continued to pat his side. White braces with red accents adorned his chest, underneath them lay a plain, off white polo shirt. _Why was she suddenly so interested in everything about him?_

"I'll see you at the reception yea? goodnight."

Jessica watched him leave. A feeling unlike anything she had felt today- or any day she had experienced in a long while- sparked in her chest. _I laughed_. She felt silly but the thought of asking him his room number so maybe they could talk some more, made her feel excited and actually anticipated to live out tomorrow. She needed happiness in her life.

And she wasn't about to let it get it away from her.

The bulletin board.

**Dancing competition**

**Last couple standing wins! Cash prize!**

_**Fish Swallowing! How long will you last?** _

**Flagpole sitting!**

**Come watch Daredevil Dave climb a flagpole west of Pico Blvd. Grab a snack, bring a deck chair; he's got all day!**

Jessica took copies of each and tucked them in her coat pocket whilst simultaneously fishing out her key. As the door lock clicked open and the hinges winced when pressure was applied to them, Jessica felt like turning on the radio, singing, reading the funnies and drinking a _whole_ cup of warm coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so sorry this took a while to update because of college work and more importantly my dog was ill. Turns out he has genetic anemia and has to be on steroids for the rest of his life. I'm grateful that its under control now but he has trouble eating even when he's hungry. So I have to literally spoon feed him with my hands lol. which I don't mind doing because he's my baby and I love him sooooo much!!! but I am a vegetarian so ha. Anyway hope this was okay and you liked it. Also the bulletin board, those were actually things Americans did to stay happy during the great depression, I mean amazing to be staying or trying to be in high spirits during a shitty time but....fish eating? Live goldfish eating...anyway, Don't know if you've noticed but these chapters are named after songs. Some are ones I think specifically relate to a chapter some im just listening to and find a way to associate it with what I'm writing. So I created a playlist with all the songs thus far on it. Enjoyyy: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLyNzoGJKjdrMlCH9bXcxtKZPMF7b8RTF6


	5. Just a girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jessica takes the car to the automechanic, Daisy has an opinion, Eddie's door gets destroyed and Roger has second thoughts about posting his letter to Disney.

"Well, you're lucky it's just superficial damage, Mrs Rabbit."  
  
The toon auto mechanic grumbled from behind his overgrown moustache. His gloved hands placed firmly on his hips as he stepped back and overlooked the front of Jessica's white, 1938 Packard Eight.  
  
"It should've been a lot worse considering everything that was dumped on it."  
  
Jessica nodded in agreement. She knew Roger had said to not pay the car much mind considering it had been months after the incident but they never really touched the car in those months at all, except when Roger cleaned it and despite how Roger counted that as 'touching', Jessica didn't. Only when he needed to go back to work again was it really used, minus the drive they took back home all those months ago. It must've been the tenseness of the situation because back then, she didn’t realise how the car spluttered and coughed when she put it in park.  
  
When Roger woke up, he was uber excited to post his letter, she caught his infectious giddiness and managed to persuade him to stay in bed and cuddle some more before he would inevitably climb out and trip over his trousers whilst getting dressed. Jessica wasn't as placid as people imagined her to be; instead of squealing and dancing when she was overcome with surprise happiness, she'd much rather show it by hugging and smothering her husband in kisses. But that was just her.  
  
The day was so nice in toon town, Jessica only hoped Roger's view from downtown was just as bright as it seemed when she drove him there ten minutes prior. Her brown cat eye sunglasses with matching pant suit and white sun hat, really had her pumped to get out and enjoy the day. She smiled, thinking back to how Roger complimented her ensemble when she dropped him off at Eddie's earlier, she tugged at his arm to get him back in his seat so she could properly thank him for his sweetness before driving off, blowing him a kiss as he waved her away, standing slightly bow legged.  
  
"I thought that too." Jessica replied temperately, "But I don't think it's just scuffs, the engine spits sometimes," Jessica moved from leaning on her right leg to her left, "most times actually."  
  
The toon nodded, taking in her concerns before letting out a sigh, then he breathed in deeply and fondled with his belt that had multiple of related and miscellaneous tools suspending from it.  
  
"Well, I'll do some investigations...It isn't a toon car so expect it to take a little longer, Mrs Rabbit,"  
  
Jessica nodded; mumbling a series of 'okays' at his prognosis.  
  
"and you can leave your number here, I'll call you if anything major happens and when you can come and collect her."

"Thank you." She nodded to him steadily, then masterfully spun on her amazingly thin heel to strut back to reception, where she jotted her phone number beside her name.

Although walking home usually wasn't what Jessica preferred, it was a lovely day and it wasn't like she had a choice regardless; she could always stick her thumb out for Benny but she'd never admit that she found his driving _erratic_ at best. Maybe she should change into a light jacket, sit in the back garden and start planning a stay-at-home date for when Roger got back; they couldn’t use the car for at least a day and it’d be a nice gesture and replacement to the sparse dates they could enjoy when they found gaps in their schedules. They weren’t able to do that enough since Roger found success and Jessica found herself missing the nights of dressing up, Roger serenading her evening with jokes and laughter, dimly lit dives and trying her best to obviously flirt, all before she’d drag him into her apartment for the night. She felt silly but being a Disney wife made her want to have a romantic night in.

Roger stayed put in the chair across from Eddie, one of which was overlooking what used to be his brother's desk. Although after the Doom case, Dolores had somehow convinced Eddie to display all of Teddy's belongs on a shelf beside his pull-out bed, they were dusted and polished regularly. Roger pulled a face; was it pull _down_ bed? As opposed to out. It did have to be pulled south-facing from where it would appear out of the _wall_.  
  
Despite being right in front of Eddie _and_ a rabbit with big ears and red overalls, Roger felt like a broken grandfather clock, helplessly trying to tick away in a shadowed corner because that's how little attention Daisy paid to him. She strode forward, arms bent like a soldier and eyes intense like a general. Roger felt Eddie cringe without having to look at him; the door was shaking, hanging slightly from its hinges. _I'll replace that._ Roger thought.  
  
"Well?" Daisy asked while her webbed foot tapped impatiently on the wooden floorboards.  
  
Eddie sighed and closed the file he was _so_ entranced in ten minutes ago.  
  
"Is you know who-"  
  
" _You know who_ , that's right."  
  
Eddie sighed and turned to Roger. A well-meaning but solemn look on his face.  
  
"See ya later, kid. Alright?"  
  
Roger nodded and leaned forward to get his envelope, his envelope which held an important and potentially life changing reply letter. He jumped out of his chair, the force of the action sending it flying backward beneath him, it spun a few loops around itself before hitting the desk; it was facing toward the door as opposed to before.  
  
"Hey, I know you." Daisy pointed a feathered finger to him. Apparently now deciding to notice him and seemingly not as eager to talk about 'you know who' as before. Whom Roger didn't know who.  
  
"You're that Rabbit that worked for Maroon."  
  
Roger met her eyes and shrugged, trying to be coy whilst wearing a grin.  
  
"Yes, _worked_ being the keyword."  
  
"Hmm..." Daisy frowned, the bottom of her beak jutting out, a fluffy and delicate hand came up to poke it thoughtfully.  
  
"It's a shame really, that you’re not particularly marketable."  
  
Roger stood with arms limp against his sides, mind blank as he stared straight ahead into Daisy's eyes. He felt like he was being judged and scrutinised the more he looked but he couldn't pull himself away. Too nervous to move suddenly.  
  
"What...?" Eddie finally spoke up with a face that was scrunched up in obvious confusion.  
  
"Ya know, with his features all over the place."  
  
Daisy waved her arms widely as she addressed Eddie, her head nodding in synchronicity with her motions. She then turned to look at Roger, who was uncharacteristically twisting the letter he held in his hands. He did get nervous, especially when he used to work for Raul. But usually he wouldn't be struck silent, well he would - but not _this_ silent.  
  
"-and that _girlfriend_ of yours."  
  
 _Bing!_ The bell at the reception chimed and with it, Roger's temper snapped. Suddenly pumped with nervous adrenaline, he moved clumsily from his spot on the varnished floor and shoved his letter into the deep pocket of his overalls. His legs moved him back to lean on Eddie's desk, during which he heard Eddie correct Daisy -  
  
"Wife."  
  
As well as Daisy's reply-  
  
"Oh...wife, sorry. Donald knows her, I _don't_..."  
  
-But all Roger could really process was the disgust that was someone judging his wife plainly based off her lines on paper.  
  
"Hey! What makes you think you can talk about my Jessica that way!"

Daisy's head rolled limply on its neck to move from looking at Eddie to look at Roger. Pink, shimmery eyelids visible as she gazed at him with raised eyebrows like he had just asked the most ridiculous question someone had ever asked in the history of _ever_.

"She's a public figure." Was all the response he received.   
  
"Well that doesn't really matter, you don't know her so I'd like you to stop assuming you do."  
  
“I don't really need to know her to _know_ her."  
  
"She isn't bad, she's just drawn that way," Roger took a breather between swift sentences, "I _actually_ know her so I think I know what I'm talking about and as a fellow toon I'd expect more understanding from you."  
  
"The way your drawn influences your personality-"  
  
"That’s a myth!"  
  
"Oh, _really_? Tell me why I can sometimes lay an egg?"  
  
"Egg laying has nothing to do with your personality, I should hope! or God help Hollywood!"  
  
Daisy gasped and subsequently lowered her brow into what _should have_ been a frightening scowl but all Roger could think about was comebacks involving egg puns.  
  
"ALRIGHT!”

-Broke the aggressive staring match he and Daisy were participating in. Eddie had his hands flat to his desk; he was out of his chair and by the look he gave him, Roger knew he was miffed with him the least.

“Roger...loved seeing you...but, I think you _need_ to be somewhere." He said with a nod. His voice, which presented as stern but for Eddie was pretty tame.

"Yes, I think you do." Daisy agreed, like she had won! _Ha,_ Roger thought, _funny for a foil._ He sarcastically quipped.

Despite what would’ve been a zinger insult, Roger held back and merely tugged his dungarees slacks from beneath his heels; with fluid limbs and swift reaction motions he took a step towards the door whilst his eyes kept Daisy in their sights, a mad and judgemental look was held within them. 

"Fine. I _will_ be leaving..." he spun around on his heel, ears flopping gracefully as he did.  
  
"Bye Eddie-" he extended an arm behind him and waved; with little movement from his fingers. Then he turned to face the detective, a _maybe_ smile playing on his features.

"Talk to you later, catch up with the missus and-"  
  
"-Girlfriend."  
  
“Girlfriend! Yes...” Roger waggled a finger. He spun around, walking backwards and feeling for the door knob blindly as he made eye contact with Eddie, Daisy’s scowl stained his peripheral and it took all of Roger to resist squeezing her head together with his thumb and index finger.

“Goodbye.” He directed to Eddie. To which he nodded, followed by a tapping of his finger against his desk.

“ _Bye_ , _Daisy_." Roger spat whilst not really looking at her either, more like looking at the side of her feathered head, giving it a dirty look that made his whiskers twitch.

" _Bye_." She rolled her eyes. Tone equal with Roger’s.

With the door handle now firm in his grip, he pulled the door shut, before of course stepping into the grey hallway outside of Eddie’s office, Eddie and Daisy now compressed into silhouettes thanks to the translucent window, until-

 _PING_ **_! CRASH!_ **

The door fell straight off of its hinges, Roger’s face, which still faced into the room, stared down at it with an expression that would usually leave a room roaring, his jaw wide and eyes the same. But Eddie wasn’t laughing, actually he looked like he might spontaneously explode.

After two seconds of shocked silence, silence minus the _one_ screw which decided to spin itself to a stop for far too long. Roger smiled nervously.

"Ever thought of putting a curtain here, Eddie?"  
  
A scowl that _was_ terrifying stared him down, with more silence included! _Wow lucky!_

"I'll be leaving now."

_‘Well...that wasn’t how I thought I’d spend my morning...Well! you’re not a psychic, Roger. I never said I was, Brain.’_

Roger thought, as he tried to put as much distance as possible between himself and Eddie’s office, lest Daisy storm out and chase him, or Eddie...probably _not_ Eddie. His speed walk was spent staring down at the envelope, slightly crumbled in his hands and nervously turning to look behind him, before he knew it- he was at the post office.

Although he just tucked himself into the space where the door jutted out from the brick wall instead of actually walking in, as to not disturb the pedestrian traffic; he’d learnt his lesson to not stand in deep thought whilst people were walking forward and back, when he was pushed down a flight of stairs. He continued to look at the address on the letter; it was strange. He’d seen loads of movies, when he took Jessica on dates, when he lived alone and managed to scrape enough together to buy a ticket to a goofy cartoon. But in the few movies with humans he’d watched, the same actors and actresses were stars in multiple, in completely different genres, playing completely different characters and working for separate companies. But Goofy always acted _Goofy_ and Goofy was _owned_ by Disney. He wanted to act, he wanted to take the offer.

_Well, I didn’t expect Daisy to be such an antagonist, maybe she is playing a roll. Like Herman. Am I the only one who even remotely plays themselves?_

He never thought of that before, he didn’t usually _have_ thoughts like that. It was always the timing and finesse that he loved, he was looking at it as an art, a skill to be learned. But he never played with the idea of Goofy being any different behind the scenes, without the timing and finesse...Did you really need timing if you were playing yourself...?

Roger laughed to himself. _‘Pfft! Really had me going there! what a dumb question!’_

_..._

Did _he_ have timing and finesse? He spent years practicing slapstick in a tiny room and writing basic stand up, he must have. _‘of course, I do! I just haven’t been in the game for a while, I’ll be fine once I’m under the studio lights.’_

His eyes drifted to the phone booth across the road; a sweaty middle-aged man stormed out of it and kicked it with the side of his boot. Although that was a bit painful to watch, only because he pretended not to be cradling his foot and wincing afterwards. He looked back to the phone booth. Mind deciding to drift and think of insignificant things like, what he should eat when he got back home? maybe he should start scouting places to buy Eddie a replacement door? - no, he could do it himself! He did have a tool box and a-

He blinked a few times, falling back into reality. The finesse- no, the phone booth! Right. What was he thinking about again- _‘oh yeah!_ _I gotta call Jessica.’_

“Urm...ummm...”

“or maybe-? Er...no.”

Jessica held up two jackets by the hanger in both hands as she hummed and mumbled at her reflection in the mirror. Moving the jackets over her chest repeatedly to judge whether which would complement her brown woollen trousers more.

“If I can’t decide in the next 5 seconds I’m going with white.” She told herself, looking sternly at her mirror image. The white was more fashionable in the designer sense; Jessica's problem was that she liked seeing how well _everything_ matched sometimes. 

_5_

_4_

_3_

_2_

_1_

“Okay, white...or wait, what about that green one I have-"

_**Ring, Ring!** _

Red waves whipped over her shoulder as she looked into the hallway, the bedroom door was open as she was planning to just grab a jacket and make it quick. Her and Roger’s wardrobe was open and she knew she’d have to tidy the small mess of jackets she’d accumulated, effectively making her take longer but she wanted to feel good and she couldn’t do that without the right outfit; she only wanted to sit outside, no-one would see her but she wanted to fulfil her _own_ curiosity. She set the clothes that were in her hands on the bed before rushing downstairs, holding the top of the banister as she spun around the corner and into the living room.

Coming to a stop in front of the small table beside Roger’s chair, was when Jessica moved her red hair from her face and out of her red gouache lipstick; a delicate hand took the black phone off of its stand, pinkie outstretched as she held it to her ear.

“Hello?”

Although it wasn’t the auto mechanic like she’d expected, sure it had only been twenty minutes at the least but he said he’d call if _anything_ came up. Instead, it was her Roger who answered.

“Lovecups! Good thinking to write down our number when we got that phone, I never remember the stupid thing...”

Jessica smiled at his cheery tone; she picked up the rotary phone stand as she started to walk throughout the living room with a smile. Well, walk as far as the cord could take her.

“Don’t worry about it,” her breathy voice spoke back into the mouthpiece, “you need that space in your brain for potential comedy material, you know, the important stuff.”

Jessica meant that in a sincere but joking way. Because she very much so valued Roger’s humour and she knew he knew that. So, despite her apparently unreadable tone, Roger didn’t hesitate in his response:

A crackling - but still good quality sound for phones – laugh emanated from the receiver. Jessica smiled wider.

“I see you’ve been watching the shows without me, darling, soon you’ll be saying funnier things than _me_.”

Roger said in an equally; more apparent joking tone. Because thankfully, Roger didn’t have the ability to grow an ego so big that he’d be making himself out to be the funniest toon on Earth. But Jessica most certainly thought he was.

“ _Oh_ , I don’t think I could be _that_ funny.” Jessica sat down in Roger’s chair, placed the phone stand back and compensated by twirling the ebony cord in her fingers.

“what did you call to tell me, sweetheart?”

“Just...for some advice; you’re the smartest person I know, my love, _despite_ the fact that I remember the important stuff for us.”

Jessica giggled as she moved some hair from her face to behind her ear.

“You’re such a charmer, Roger.”

“That’s right, says so on my resume.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.”

“How about thrice?”

“No.”

“Fou- fo- fou-rice?”

“Na-ah!”

“Fil-tice?”

“Don’t even _dream_ of it!”

“I can keep this up allll day, madam."

“You’re stalling, darling.”

Jessica’s face was split with a smile at her husband’s cute antics but she was also genuinely concerned as to whether something _or_ someone had actually upset him.

“What! Me? I don’t even know the meaning of _‘stalling’_ , come to think of it, I’ve never even _**heard**_ of the word! It sounds Spanish...doesn’t it sounds Spanish, dearest?”

“I don’t think so.” Jessica shook her head despite knowing Roger couldn’t see her; she didn’t care, she had more important things to focus on, “I can tell you’re upset.”

A small pause that only consisted of the occasional blip of static that the phone allowed, was Jessica’s soundtrack as she waited for him to answer. She wouldn’t pressure him; she didn’t like to treat others how she wouldn’t appreciate being treated but if he didn’t tell her now after she’d figured him out, which had never happened before, she’d get it out of him eventually.

“Not so much upset, more disappointed.”

“So, you were stalling.”

_Another static-y silence._

“...Maybe.”

Jessica smiled sweetly at his softness. The phone crackled as Roger cleared his throat,

“I can’t lie to you, love...I don’t even think it’s Spanish.”

Jessica laughed. Her cheeks expanding as her closed lips spluttered out a laugh.

She heard him laugh with her and after a second of composition, she diverted back to the question at hand; in a cooing voice she asked:

“Oh, sweetheart...what happened?”

He sighed. Jessica could just picture his throwing his head back in confused frustration, his ears flopping behind him with a mixture of grace and wildness.

“Well...I was...you know...do you think this is a good idea?”

“The letter?”

“yeah...like... _yeah_.” His final word muffled by a thick outtake of air.

“I think you loved it this morning; what changed?”

“I met one of their stars in Eddie’s office.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“In this circumstance yes...you’re so amazing Jessica, you shake things off like it’s a sport...although I really don’t feel okay with what they said and I can’t shake it, because it was about you.”

Jessica listened to the sad tone in his voice and frowned that this had been playing on his mind. If it were anyone else, she would’ve been offended; she didn’t want to be pitied on, if someone thought she couldn’t stand up for herself, then they were just wrong. Yes, she was blackmailed although that’s not even in the same species as not caring what people thought about you, she said that mostly to herself if anything else. But when it was Roger, she knew it was only because he cared about her like nobody has ever cared for her before.

“Roger...people think what they think and people can be awful, even people like us. Don’t let them control your dreams. _I_ still think you should do it, make a fortune and show that fool what for; when I pick you up at the studio, I’ll make sure to make extra fuss over you, specially!”

“You promise it’s okay?”

“I promise. I was thinking, we should celebrate, have a fancy dinner, dress up like old times. I want to make a _huuuuge_ pasta bowl, some carrots seasoned in nutmeg, some spinach and broccoli on the side and topped off with some thick tomato sauce, let’s make it together, just so you can see how proud I am.”

**_Ziip- buzz- bleep-_ **

“And _apparently_ , I’m the charmer...Oh dearest! as I stand here in this phone booth, gripping my heart as the palpitations you cause pass through me, I can soberly say... _that you need to put this on your resume._ ”

Jessica laughed again, her tiny nostrils making her snort just as she usually did whenever Roger got her humour gland working.

“Go on, silly. Post it, then I’ll ask a cab to come and collect you-”

“Benny?”

“...We’ll see.” _That means noope._ Jessica thought as she picked up the phone book from underneath the chair and started to flip through it. She knew Roger could make his own way home with his own cab calling skills but recently she liked knowing _exactly_ where he was. Besides! it was a difficult drive for Benny to figure out: from the entrance of toon town to _their house_ in what was called, ‘toon suburbia’ reserved for the apparent: ‘rich and famous’ and she knew if Roger stuck out his thumb, Benny would know; she was just being logical.

“At your service! Will do! Right O! I won’t have to wait a second for a toon cab, boy! humans are prehistoric, they must be running on flip book animation.” Roger joked, although it was semi true.

“Bye sweetheart,” he made a smooch sound effect with his lips, then poured a soft, lovesick voice into the phone, “ _looooove_ you.”

“I love you, too.” Jessica smiled; her response mirrored the tone in Roger’s infatuated drawl.

“Okay...so, ' _apparently'_ this all connects, see? Daisy confirmed so.”

Eddie jabbed a finger to the document he was working on whilst Roger called, then to notes he made during Daisy’s visit. Dolores scanned them with a finger to her chin, nodding in agreement.

“Looks like we’ll have to visit toon town, that’s still alright with you, right?”

Eddie smiled; a smile he only reserved for her and nodded.

“Great, I best pack those documents.”

Dolores’ freckled arm reached out and her sun-kissed hand hovered, about to grab the papers and organise them into her bag until Eddie took it instead.

“Not necessarily today. We should probably check out the studio first to see if anyone saw that it was _definitely_ Donald, besides it’s closer. Where’s your head at?” Eddie grinned with a low chuckle, “Don’t tell me...you actually _like_ going to toon town?” He asked jokingly, pretend shock audible his voice.

“Like’s a strong word, Eddie. I’m beginning to tolerate it more like.”

Eddie grinned and released her hand from his soft grip; somehow, they ended up interlocking digits across the table anyway, Dolores wore a green bow and matching outfit today, Eddie’s detective brain jotted that in his memory file, as well as his fantasy file. She always loved interesting head wear.

“So, what’s your theory on all this?” Dolores asked, her blushed cheeks and radiating smile almost enough to completely drown out the wreak that was his door behind her.

Eddie shrugged his shoulders, the white shirt underneath his braces shifting noisily.

“I suppose it’s just a kleptomaniac not necessarily related to the custody case although it is interesting that only cels of Daisy were stolen, maybe showing her in a bad light? Best to nip it in the bud now lest getting into some serious - serious trouble.”

“But who steals animation cels?” Dolores looked up to the ceiling in thought, her beautiful blue eyes distracting Eddie momentarily, until another suit strolled passed his door in shocked awe.

“It’s practically worthless. It's not a _photograph_ of her doing something shameful.” She finished, eyebrows knotted in confusion, obviously her mind was deep in analytical thought and Eddie liked that, a lot. But she was right. Since toons were brought to life in 1908, animation cels were used as a proof of concept although rarely, mostly it acted as an ‘astronaut ice-cream’ of sorts, meaning that they were never really used but companies liked to market them as if they used to be, as a vintage looking thing Eddie supposed. Just a marketing ploy. Which answered why Disney didn't call the police (only Daisy seemed genuinely interested anyway); it would be like phoning in over a lost shopping list. Even if you were Disney, ‘sometimes these things get lost’, they’d say. But a private eye, they’d look into it if the client asked. Well, a still slightly-down-on-his-luck private eye like Eddie would anyway.

“Kleptomaniac, Dolores.” He smirked at the playful grin and slight nudge he received from her heel under the desk at his response.

“I just don’t feel that, maybe I’m wrong...but probably not.”

She chuckled and Eddie found himself staring again.

“...Dolores? Is 6 months of dating before marriage too fast?”

“Okay, let’s get going then, Eddie.”

Time – nine minutes past ten at night. Rabbit residence:

**“FASHION SHOOOOOWWWW!”**

**-** Roger hollered; laying on his side of the bed, black suit and _special_ blue tie to match Jessica’s surprise outfit. At his announcement and consequential drumroll, he heard Jessica stifle laughter from where she was behind the door, making him smile warmly from ear to ear.

“Ta da!” She exclaimed; arms outstretched as she walked into the room. Navy blue sparkles clung to the 100% silk fabric of her full-length dress. A white faux fur scarf hung loosely from her arms, a square neckline and ruched detailing made her look like an actress out of that movie he’d taken her too, the one where they ended up laughing at each other’s jokes and resorted to throwing popcorn at the cinema screen before being asked to leave; still in hysterics. The sleeves were big and lacy and the pearls she wore around her neck suited her red hair and aforementioned dark dress. But what Roger found most eye-catching, was her smile. Pink watercolour lips turned up in an excited grin, all because she was awaiting _his_ approval, over a dress she picked out for _their_ date.

“Oh! You’re a vision! dearest!”

“You think? The shawl’s not _too_ much?”

Roger waved his hand in the air and pulled a face at the preposterous question.

“Don’t be ridiculous! What about me? What’s the verdict, is the jury out?”

“Oh! I could just eat you up!”

Jessica grabbed him by the shoulders and crawled up onto their bed, kissing and playfully pretending to gnaw on his neck whilst making animalistic sounds. She felt Roger smile into her cheek; start to wriggle and throw a backhand against his forehead dramatically.

“Oh god! Cannibalism! **Someone**! have the common decency to throw it a bone!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo yep. I really like this chapter I kinda explored Roger's character a bit more here; so far its been mostly Jessica based although that was because I really wanted to get her right. So dropping hints to the overarching storyyyyyy yep its not just fluff (even though I really love writing characters in love if you couldn't tell..) also I just wanted to add a cute little scene at the end of Roger and Jessica's date just because....hope you liked it 😊 also I made an account on fanfiction.net and I'm posting this story on there as well. because I recently learnt about how archive lets really gross things on its site, like illegal shit. I don't know really what to do, but for now I'm posting on both on just feeling my way through it. Thanks for all the support on here.  
> Here's my account so u know its legit x https://www.fanfiction.net/u/7411797/MollyMerccurY


	6. Here comes the rain again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herman calls, Eddie and Dolores visit Donald Duck and Molly stop being such a tease what the hell is Eddie doing?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so really happy with this one. Also the day I'm posting this (7th Feb) i have updated the last chapter after reading it over and realising it didn't properly connect with the overall storyline. I just edited parts of Eddie and Dolores' conversation from chapter 5 so just read that part to save yourself the time :) thank you so much for all the support it really means the world to me, I never thought this would actually happen AHHH!

The sounds of cartoonish, heavenly birds chirping swam into Jessica’s half-awake mind, she was comfy and warm and fully intended on spending at least another hour cuddling and resting before she had to drag herself out of bed and get dressed for work that night. Watercolour sketches of last night flashed in her mind as she started to drift off, it made her smile; they made their meal of spaghetti and sauce just like she imagined, watched a movie after, got dressed up and the best part: it wasn’t for an award show or somewhere people would gawk, it was like when they were dating and nobodies; nobodies with somebodies. She didn’t mind gawking though; she didn’t care what people chose to do no matter how pointless it was. But it was just nice to have Roger all to herself and she knew he felt the same. She pressed her cheek further into the pillow but when fur tickled her nose, she realised that she was against Roger’s back so, she wasn’t too rough but still leaned further into him. The tweeting and sounds of the morning slowly faded as Jessica’s ears buzzed and she slowly drifted into-

“...Jessica?”

**Into...**

“... _Jessica_...?”

“ _Jessica_?”

“ _Hhmm_...?” she managed from the thralls of sleep.

“I’ve got no room...” his voice was tired, as was Jessica’s mind so it took a bit for her to _actually_ register what he said.

“ _Oh_...I’m sorry"

She cracked open her eyes, blinked until the light from behind the blinds and sheer organza curtains didn’t feel blinding, then saw that she was spooning him, which wasn’t unordinary. She reached a hand behind her, _oops;_ That was a lot of empty mattress. She threw her other arm back around him, then shuffled back, effectively taking him with her.

“Thank you...” he lazily drawled, head moving forward and back until he found a comfortable position. He rubbed his cheek against the pale, humanoid arm that acted as his pillow once he did. Her right arm was around his stomach, holding him to her; her left arm was stretched out, hand grabbing hold of his glove-less hand.

Okay, now that _that_ was resolved.

Sleep-

**_Ring, Ring, Ring-_ **

_Darn._

“ _Err geez_...I better get that...” Roger expressed through a yawn. He pushed himself up, scrawny arms slightly shaking when they held up his weight. When he somehow snuck out of her embrace, Jessica found that she groaned in response automatically. Roger was sat up in bed when her drone caused her eyes to flutter open again, he stared down at her with a smile and half lidded eyes. Jessica looked back up at him, as he was back-lit by the morning sun, she swooned internally; then externally when he brushed hair from out her face and kissed her forehead, lipstick stains on his hands another reminder of yesterday.

The ringing was still resounding but she didn’t really acknowledge it when Roger whispered sweetly:

“wait here.” -and slumped out of bed, leaving her lonely. Staring at the space he left.

She heard his footsteps descend down the stairs and she breathed in deeply. Moving to lay on her back left her looking up at the ceiling, embellished lamp shade and cream ceiling staring back, they were paler with the morning light which scattered out from beyond the curtains and blinds. Sitting up slightly and looking around as the ringing came to a stop, Jessica saw her dress on the floor and Roger’s blazer hastily shoved inside their wardrobe; she liked to be dressed for bed when playing patty cake. Thinking back made her grin; she practically threw Roger’s gloves the length of the room when she was ready.

His footsteps were moving closer and she pulled a big, toothy smile at the thought of snuggling close however, his steps sounded slower than usual: usually, if he had to answer the phone, the door or get food, he come back running and jump back into bed like a professional diver, then they’d laugh, resume their cuddle positions and sleep till Roger had to get ready for work at 10; he was unemployed for the time being so he _should_ be sprinting back to her. Some seconds later he walked back into the room; not sprinting or diving, instead he trudged to his side of the bed and just sat there, staring straight ahead at the open door.

“Darling, what’s wrong?”

She asked, voice some octaves higher with her concern.

Roger met her eyes, the expression on his face: eyes open to a comfortable degree yet scrunched, mouth pulled in an open frown, it seemed like he was uncertain in himself.

“That was Herman, he got a contract too.”

“ _Oh_.” She wasn’t expecting that to be his answer.

“He was mad I didn’t tell him...he said he saw the papers but he was too busy to call, so, _I said_ I was busy with you, _whiiiiichhhh_ wasn’t entirely a lie.” Roger outstretched his arms and grasped at his hands whilst he drew out that word. Eyes rolling in a comically innocent way.

She smiled.

“Not entirely, no... why _didn’t_ you tell him?”

She never really asked about the Herman situation or thought to. Yes, he had told her he was scared to let him know as soon as he quit but she forgot to follow up on that, ask him _when_ he was going to tell him because he had too eventually. Roger fumbled with his naked digits, the blanket of tiredness slowly washing off of him as he gradually returned to his animated self.

“Don’t laugh" Roger looked at her, head slightly tilted, “ _I know_ _it’s hard_.” He grinned.

She giggled behind a dainty hand; shaking her head.

“I won’t, promise.”

He nodded, ears flopping forward and back.

“Okay... so, I _know_ its cruel but... I was hoping for a fresh start... a new character motive or-or maybe a new character... _maybe_ , probably not.”

“Why would I laugh at that, sweetie?”

“Because it’s utterly preposterous! I’m a _toon_ , I’m chained to Herman for life-" he fell backwards onto the pillows with a plush **_bang_**. Then he looked up at Jessica, “that and you, dearest.” He smiled warmly, his comment not malicious and this, Jessica knew.

She returned his smile with her own, then moved to rest on her elbows and play with the tuft of red hair on his head.

“I’m glad, you feel the same, love-”

He smiled at that, closing his eyes when she scratched the place above his eyebrows _juuuust_ right.

“-But not to Herman necessarily; you did get separate contracts; you weren’t asked as a duo.”

“Yea...but that’s only because it’s a _‘Baby Herman’_ cartoon, not ‘Tom _and_ Jerry'... I _bet_ if we went to separate companies, they’d be fighting with the one I hy- _hypothetically_ picked to get the _other_ one of us.” He sighed, struggling slightly when pronouncing the adverb.

She frowned because she agreed with him; toons had _some_ say in their profession, Roger had quit after all; he only could because he was famous, people wanted a piece of his pie so to speak. But even then, he could be passed from company to company once he signed a copyright document. Luckily, Maroon’s document with Roger was invalid, ever since he passed. When Maroon died, Roger was then owned by the public domain, as free as a toon could be; Jessica wasn’t afraid because Roger _wanted_ to work for Disney and the thought of being passed around from person to person didn’t really phase her, as tragic as it was; that was just how toons had to live, forever being someone else’s work, someone who took all the credit. She felt sorry for the toons who didn’t have as much power as her husband, ones that were dried up and no-one wanted to purchase, ones who were neglected by the company but still forced to stay, watching their replacements bounce around on screen, unable to fade because the company insisted on feeding them and sometimes, they’d give them a cameo _riiight_ in the back. What a life that must be. Being on the silver screen wasn’t for Jessica anyway; toons singing really didn’t get that treatment except- from companies like Disney. That thought did excite her but not that much, she wasn’t one to get her hopes up.

“You should take a page out of your own book, darling.”

He spluttered out a laugh, eyebrow raised in confusion.

“what are you talking about? I don’t remember writing a book.” He joked. Fake mockery in his tone.

He felt the vibrations caused by sound travel through the mattress and up his arm when she laughed.

“Remember? You helped me get a job I love.”

Roger’s eyes widened in realisation, “Ooooooooo...” he nodded in harmony with his speech. Looking up at the ceiling just like she had done minutes before; Jessica still twirled his hair in her fingers as his expression turned into a concentrated stare.

“But that wasn’t me, you would’ve gotten there anyway; you’re so talented.”

“I don’t think I would have.”

“But I do.”

“Let’s put it this way, I wouldn’t want to without you.”

“But... if you never knew me then you wouldn’t know life _with_ me so, you might have done it anyway, or wait, if you never met me then you- you’d still be singing and maybe then the universe would throw _another_ toon rabbit-"

“Don’t think about it too much, honeybunny. Just know that I’m in _this_ universe and I know that I wouldn’t want any of this if you weren’t in it, _that’s_ my answer.”

She answered, semi sternly. She never got angry at Roger but if she was serious about something and needed him to know it, she’d lower her tone _just_ a smidgen. Although she needn’t do it often as Roger read her like a joke book.

“Okay dear.”

He answered knowingly. Reaching for her hand as a forgiveness offering. She took it without thinking twice; he brought it to his lips and kissed it sweetly. Although his fur tickled her knuckle in _just_ the correct spot-

“ _Oh_ , darling I _already_ forgive you.” She laughed.

“Huh?” he questioned, then looked down at where he touched her hand, he stiffened slightly but laughed.

“oops! Sorry, lovecups.” He smiled, eyes soft and crinkled at the sides with happiness at the slight hilarity of the situation. Although he had a genuine look of apology behind his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I trust you.” She beamed.

**12.34 am, Rabbit residence.**

They slept in till 12 that day. Roger said he better start getting up early just to do meaningless tasks if he was ever going to get back to his usual punctuality. Jessica sat on the couch in her dusty pink dressing gown and white slip dress with flowery detailing, her long pale legs jutting forward and crossing at the ankle, a coffee in her hands. The news playing on the radio in front of her as she stared straight ahead, barely listening just drinking her hot beverage. Being married to someone who _hated_ the news for 11 years had rubbed off on her; she found herself tuning out, gazing out the window at the pretty day, listening to Roger refill the bird feeder in the back garden, how the door to said garden was open and a cool, sweet breeze floated into the house, she breathed it in deeply and smiled.

The backdoor clicking shut made her eyes flutter back open.

“What do you want on your toast, darling?” Roger called from the kitchen.

“ _err_...marmalade please, dear.”

“Aye-aye!”

She sat up from where she was: sunk in her chair, to tune the radio to a different station, a Frank Sinatra song subsequently played, it now joined the sounds of Roger placing plates on the kitchen counter, a calming mixture of noises Jessica very much so enjoyed as she relaxed back into the couch.

The sound of the refrigerator closing and coffee flowing out of the coffeemaker and into a mug, for some reason make Jessica think, everything was so fantastic at the moment she couldn’t describe how relieved she felt; was that just because he was off work right now? Soon he’d be back to early mornings and coming home at four or five on a good day, these past few months have been so nice: sleeping in late, having breakfast _and_ lunch together all the time! watching movies and that at home date! Jessica didn’t want it to end but she knew it would only be a matter of time until they did, the next working day was fast approaching and she found herself dreading it. ‘ _I’m not being selfish, I’ll just miss this feeling of security, just like old times.’_ It’s not like she thought their relationship was terrible before, not at all! She had always believed they were as thick as thieves... _’and he does too...but he almost never did again after what you did for him-’_ she scowled, _‘I’m not going to think about that again, I just want to enjoy this vacation as if that never happened.’_

“There you go, my love!” he appeared beside her, holding her plate of toast in his hand like a waiter would.

“Thank you, sweetie pie.” Her deep voice turning into a star struck coo, she took the plate and leaned in to kiss him, making him giggle in surprise.

“Well!... _thank you_!” he smirked, running back into the kitchen to make his portion of breakfast.

The marmalade danced on her tongue and she smiled. He knew just how she liked it! Inside soft, crusts slightly burnt, the _tiiiiniest_ amount of butter and then a layer of thickly spread jam. _‘he always puts so much thought into things...’_ that day, _that_ morning...she was up all night anxious but said nothing and pretended to be asleep when he got up, got washed, dressed and kissed her forehead goodbye. She waited, her heart pounding, stomach twisted until the front door audibly shut and she finally moved, limbs tingling all over with pins and needles. When she eventually moved to downstairs, she found that he’d left her a note and toast on the counter, just like he always did.

She just stared at it. She couldn’t bring herself to eat it or read the note. The thought of him writing such a beautiful note and preparing her food whilst she was upstairs in such a state made her cry.

**_‘I don’t deserve this.’_ **

_‘Being with you is enough for me not to fade...’_ but she couldn’t chance it! She didn’t even want to _think_ of chancing it not after how hard he worked, how much he dreamed of this life, _‘you wouldn’t want him to be upset, would you? No job should ought to do that... and I’ll make sure no-one will want to hire him again-'_

 _‘No!’_ her grip on the mug handle tightened - _‘I thought we weren’t going to talk about that? now breath...look out the window...what a nice day! How about a green dress today? That’d be lovely, that long one you have...’_

“Someone’s in the kitchen with Roger! Buuut now-he’s-out-the-kitchen-and-on-a-chair! Bang!” he vocalised, landing on the couch beside her and stating his **_‘bang!’_** as soon as he did. She pulled him close and he leant his head against her side.

“I’m so proud of you, honeybunny.”

“Oh, don’t be, just like you said, I wouldn’t have wanted to get here without you.”

“Everything will work out in your favour, dear. I _just_ know it.”

He didn’t respond to that.

She brought his hand close to her chest, looking down into his eyes. Eyes that had a hint of sadness within them. _‘just forget about that, his feelings matter right now.’_

“Roger... don’t worry about Herman, okay?” her voice quiet and caring.

“Okay.” He smiled softly, tone steady.

**The day before. Eddie and Dolores return from Walt Disney Studios:**

Yesterday, after Dolores exclaimed that they should get going, she actually meant lunch first. They walked to her apartment and there she prepared bread, eggs and beans whilst Eddie took the job of organising the documents. Once he was done; Dolores said she needed to spruce up before they left. Although Eddie thought she already looked a million bucks.

Eddie had his stuff gathered, he looked himself over in the mirror and moved to knock on Dolores’ door.

“Are you done?”

“Almost!”

“ _Come on_ , Dolores!” Eddie threw his head back and rolled his eyes. The pictures of his girlfriend's family in his field of view before he spun on the slightly elevated heel of his shoe. Staring down at the floorboards of her apartment.

“Do you really want my breath smelling like eggs and beans when we’re talking to the big cheese?”

...

“ _thought so._ ”

After checking everything was safe and off, for a final time. They left and climbed into Dolores’ car.

The ride to Disney and the cacophony that was inside all went by in a blur, the higher-ups seemed to be annoyed at the mention of ‘animation cels' which Eddie found interesting but then again, it was the equivalent of asking about a missing tissue so he didn’t think much of it. But even after they had finished there, the sky starting to dim, they _still_ had daylight bright enough to burn, private investigators have unpredictable hours but the tip off someone gave them at the studio meant that they couldn’t wait till tomorrow, if they were hoping to finish this job sooner rather than later anyway.

Sitting in Dolores’ car made Eddie remember his, after Roger wrecked his car beyond repair, Eddie carpooled with his girlfriend and used the red car more often but Roger _did_ buy him a new car, a newer model of the original which stunned Eddie; sometimes he forgot how rich Roger actually _was_. Even though he did have a car, he found he liked riding in Dolores’ for whatever reason, he had to get more use out of his though; otherwise, he’d be acting ungrateful. The ride felt like two minutes but Eddie knew that it was over half an hour from the studio in Burbank California to Toontown. Half an hour...didn’t he say that he and Dolores should go to Disney _before_ Toontown? Because it was quicker? He did. _I did_ , he thought. Okay...that was odd, the fact that Dolores hadn’t picked up on it was. He didn’t lie to her though; his mind at the time told him that that was the truth, his subconscious knowing a plan he did not, _‘You don’t have to be detective all the time, you like spending time with her, you know that.’_ Duh. But this made him realise, actually stop and think: she did too. No matter how much he rejected the thought before, ignored it and somehow convinced himself otherwise, he knew she tried her best to stay as _strictly_ friendly as she could after he gained a reliance on the bottle. Friendly meaning more like acquaintances.

“We’re here, you’ve been staring, taking detective's notes? Are the bushes _too_ green to be normal?”

Eddie blinked and realised he’d been looking straight ahead unblinkingly. A toon he’d never seen before uncomfortably shifted and turned to cross the street once he came to his senses, mistaking his daydreaming gaze for creepiness.

“ _Ha, ha_ " he quipped back, turning slowly to face her, an unimpressed look in his eyes but a smile on his lips.

The sky was darker in Toontown, the lights of the celeb neighbourhood coming to life one by one, they were suspended by wires and attached between alit lampposts, the lights connecting together each post were a mixture of colours and reflected such on the cobblestone below. Eddie looked back on how Disney Studios looked as he and Dolores stepped on the rubberised and paper surface of Toontown. The studio was massive, just as he remembered, it was separated into several buildings which were all collated together, there was the theatre, the ink and paint department where still toon sets were made, the sound stage. But that day, they headed to the animation department, where the toon actors spent the majority of their time. Roger would soon be there too and if he didn’t finish looking into Donald per Daisy’s instruction before then, then he’d probably see him, that’d be nice but also a distraction. He remembered how the doors opened, the chatter of toons and slapstick sound effects absent during a weekday. Other times though, Eddie and Dolores would share a look and smile at the sounds, eyes on the verge of rolling.

That was weirdly emotional to think about.

“Okay, so Daisy said Donald lives at number 180 on this street...” She looked up from the piece of paper in her hands, “Pretty ritzy, huh?”

“Yea...haven’t been here since Goofy had trouble with spy allegations.”

This part of Toontown was different from the rest; it was a calm suburbia, their worlds Beverly Hills, sparsely placed towering trees and all.

“Have you noticed me acting differently?” he abruptly asked.

She looked down at him, eyes wide.

“You mean sober? _Yes_.”

“No!” He groaned as they walked past lavishly decorated flower patches, white benches, familiar faces, sparkling toon cars and real cars.

“Like forgetting _important_ things, was I doing better in Roger’s case? When I was _drunk_!”

“Don’t say that!” She grabbed his shoulder and shoved it but then she held it gently under her palm as they continued to walk, eyes turning from offended bewilderment to soft, lips turned down in a concerned lour.

“...I have no idea what you’re talking about, you’ve flown back into this like you never left! you’re just _happy_ , Eddie; don’t beat yourself up over something stupid I don’t even know about.” She smiled lovingly.

He smiled back, using his special smile again which he found himself using more and more, without even knowing sometimes.

The twinkly lights, famous toons walking home or having a night on the town, grand mansions and homes, continued to pass them by as they focused on one another.

180, Fleischer Road: a three story, bungalow inspired build, long and squat. A porch with hanging plant pots and a wooden bench was atop of birch steps, they grew longer in size the closer they got to the stone walkway below, consistent green grass on each side of said walkway, Eddie was able to see the greenery and carefully arranged plants with the atmospheric yellow light that shone through the large windows, the curtains drawn. It was beautiful, even Eddie wouldn’t mind staying here for a while.

He knocked on the door, it came out as a ‘shave and a haircut’ knock but he wasn’t even trying, it just happened. Dolores fixed him with a look.

“You’ve been hanging around rabbits too long.”

He elbowed her playfully.

The door opened seconds after, toons really couldn’t resist a shave and a haircut, huh?

“Yes?”

Donald asked in a deadpan, squeaky and unintelligible voice hitting Eddie like a truck. Something else he forgot: this’ll be hard without a translator or _something._ How could Daisy even understand her estranged boyfriend anyway? Dolores filled in the silence with a sickly-sweet sentiment:

“Hiya, Hun. Lovely chrysanthemums outside, we’re just here to ask some questions, is that alright?”

Her friendly exterior always did come in handy. Donald welcomed them in and Eddie took in the expensive furniture and decorative ornaments on the shelves. Donald’s nephews were running around, oblivious to visitors, valuable memorabilia of Walt Disney shaking and inching dangerously whenever they got too close. Donald blocked their path and they all halted, skidding on their heels in a uniform line comically. He pointed to the long and wide stairs, blue carpet running down it, he said something equivalent too: “get ready for bed, boys.” Rather sternly but then he kissed each one of them on the head as they sulked away. Despite the fact that Eddie knew they were written as Donald’s nephews, in the eyes of everyone else, they were clearly drawn to be _his_ children. When Donald posed for his Sunday strip, there was a comic which introduced ‘Della duck’ their mother. Although she wasn’t developed into a living toon; it was much funnier to see Donald blow his top and look after three rambunctious ducklings. There was no _purpose_ for her.

Of course, Daisy wasn’t related to Huey, Dewey and Louie in _that_ sense but toons found a loophole to that: if they belonged to the same company or were created by the same person their case for custody would be accepted by the court; they were technically related. Also, Daisy had a little more leeway as she’d been a caregiver to them, as well as Donald, for a significant number of years. They’d still all be owned by Disney so it didn’t concern the company where the triplets lived.

They all sat on the couch and Eddie jogged his memory back to his talk with Daisy earlier that day before beginning his 'interrogation' (he was only a PI not police). Today was a Saturday, Roger had a spat with Daisy then left to post his letter, thankfully the office was open on a Saturday-

_“So, remember yesterday I was talking about knitting a scarf and baking a cake and missing animation cels?”_

_“Unfortunately-"_

_“Well, today Minnie said that the only cels missing were of me! I’m not allowed in the studio on a weekday can you pleeease go see if Donald was seen snooping? Maybe he took them and I was giving the bird in one!”_

_Eddie’s face scrunched up in surprised confusion._

_“Not what you are thinking.” She rolled her eyes and scoffed, “get your head out of the gutter Valiant, just do it.” She demanded with a pointed finger, twirling and practically flying over his destroyed door._

“I understand that you’re in the midst of a custody battle at the moment, is that right?”

“Do you really have to ask? Everyone already knows, I can’t have one minute to myself!”

It took Eddie a minute to process but he got the gist after that. He thought.

“So, I assume it’s hard to find time for yourself then?”

“...that’s what I said.”

_Oops_

This was going to be difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So it may seem like 'where tf is this going??' rn but Shhhhh it's gonna be okay sweetiepoo. Also sorry if the references to patty cake were a bit errrrrrrr... Cuz I thought that. Honestly no hate but the thought of this couple doing shit isn't for me. But like I said, as long as your not doing anything immoral or wrong or hurting people you do you. I just wanted to hint it to show the funny differences between humans and toons as well as show more of their loving relationship (not saying if u don't play patty cake u aren't in a loving relationship, you're valid too!!) but only references will be made! I can't do anything else lol.


	7. Superstition (C2C Remix)/Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Jessica and Roger have a strange day and an even weirder night; someone decides to break into their house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while... I've been writing other chapters that'll appear later on; I just wanted to make sure I had things organised. Also, hope it shows that I've been doing a lot of research on los angeles in the 1930's and 40s, because I really want this to be historically accurate, just with toons added. Eventually part of that research will be shown because I had an amazing idea for the location of Toontown. Well not amazing but pretty spot on. ALSO TF this is the longest chapter I've wrote, 7,000 words?? And I was going to write more but I didn't want it to drag on and be repeatative so... that's for next time. (Also, never mentioned this... but I'm from the UK so I don't write commas before 'and' or any conjunction for that matter... just thought I'd say that in case people were getting really annoyed with me lol.)

**Monday.**

“Morning, Mrs Rabbit.”

“Morning.”

She had _finally_ received the call to pick up the car. The familiar petrol smell of the mechanics made her nose wrinkle; she stayed closer to the open garage door, bright day shining down and fresh air brushing against the back of her neck. She wore a long, hot pink summer dress, tiered with ruffled sleeves, light pink heels and white, wrist length gloves.

“So, your car’s all fixed! Shouldn’t be spitting anymore.”

“That’s great.”

“But I am required to tell you what we found.”

His voice turned lower and he ceased leaning against the hood of her Packard casually.

“ _Urm_... _what you found?_ ”

“Yes, were you aware of a threatening letter in the trunk-"

“A **what**?”

“You can read it if you’d like-”

“Of course, I’d like to!” She rolled her eyes; she was stern at the ridiculous question. What an absolutely _obvious_ thing to say! She wasn’t stupid.

He stiffened at her tone, then fumbled in his pocket for a second longer than he should have, what with her staring like _that_. But after everything that had happened to her, the last thing she wanted was a letter blackmailing her or Roger, or someone wanting to hurt him, she was already clingier with him. When the mechanic extended it out to her, she snatched the paper and unfolded it with haste but immediately raised a brow at the opening:

**_Dear, ‘brother.’_ **

**_Haven’t wrote in a while...mostly because you neglected to tell me your address, thanks for that. I sent letters to your office but you either don’t care or never get them. Just writing this to tell you that I’m no push over. If I can’t get through to you with annoyance, I will by using your bosses’ dirty secrets. You think you’re smarter than me? Well, you’re not, you’re self-obsessed, you think you’re someone you’re really not, you’re not at all! Not in the slightest! And I’m gonna prove it, to you and everyone... I know you’ll find this because I picked this car out with you... but you wouldn’t remember that would you? Just wait and see, this is for your own good._ **

**_Love, your brother._ **

She blinked. This was embarrassing; some ‘mastermind' got it _wrong_. She pulled the paper away from her eyes and stared down at the humanoid, toon mechanic.

“Not to be _difficult_... but this doesn’t seem to be addressed to me _or_ my husband... or so you’ll understand: _I don’t think this was meant for me..._ ”

.

“So, what did Daisy say when you told her Donald didn’t take anything?”

“She was confused, spat some lip... but Donald had an alibi so...”

Eddie shrugged and took another sip of his tea. The quiet bustle of the cafe was a nice change, Dolores had suggested it, after Daisy managed to loosen _another_ screw on his door. He couldn’t just _leave_ it like _that_ so, he’d fixed it himself... to a decent degree until a professional could look at it anyway and she came and damaged it _again_. Despite how Roger called him the same day it broke, apologising like it was his _fault_ , searching for a pen to make a cheque out in his name, Eddie refused; he didn’t want to feel like a freeloader. Accepting money was fine; as long as he did a job for it or, if it was in compensation over an _expensive_ thing, an expensive thing which got smashed... like the car... but a _door_? No, he could do that job himself.

“They must’ve mistaken another toon for Donald...”

He continued, speaking in reference to Saturday: when they visited the studio and people had confirmed seeing the duck that day; toons weren’t allowed in the studio on a weekday so he was seen running in and out but still _there_ , in the animation department. Only problem was: Donald was out with the boys the day the cels went missing, Huey’s diary confirmed so. Also, an interesting anecdote which Eddie just ate up, was how Donald said he didn’t wear _blue_ and he was seen in _blue_. Eddie put his weight on his elbows when he leaned forward, looking into Dolores’ sparkling eyes.

“She told me to get dirt on him but all I’ve found is that he has a temper and accidentally put salt in Mickey’s birthday cake once” He scoffed, “ _Duh,_ he has a temper, I mean _come on_.”

She sighed. Cheek resting on her palm.

“What other toon has feathers and wears a blue sailor suit-"

“One who was wearing a costume!... remember what Donald said? He only wears blue on the job and he wasn’t on the job that day.”

“ _So_? Who would do that?”

“ _That’s_ what I’m hoping for, a bigger picture! A mystery to solve!”

“Oh, Eddie...” She rolled her eyes. Smiling at his declaration.

Eddie smiled; how _couldn’t_ he be excited? Since he got back into his profession, all thanks to Roger’s _rollercoaster_ of a case, he’d been itching for another one like it! Well, _maybe one not as life threatening... or emotionally traumatising_ , actually **_definitely_** , definitely not that. More along the lines of unexpected twists; the exhilaration of figuring out a twisted case felt like completing a difficult brain teaser. Daisy’s pretty tame job still gave him his drive back but after what Donald had said, it just made him realise how happy he was at the mere suggestion of something else happening here.

He picked up the last piece of his croissant and popped it in his mouth, smiling as the flavour melted into his tongue.

“Hey! There’s Jessica!” Dolores shoved his arm.

“ _Huh_?”

Eddie turned to look out the window parallel to them: there was unquestionably Jessica Rabbit, her car parked across the street, scratches gone and windows cleaner; she seemed to be heading in the direction of his office. He hummed and shrugged, going back to licking his fingers of croissant and after that, savour the rest of his tea but Dolores grabbed him by the wrist.

“Come on, let’s say hi; it’s been a while.”

“Dolores, can’t I fini-"

She got up, grip firm as she placed a tip on the table and waved a cheery goodbye to the waitress, Eddie however, had the arm of his blazer falling slightly below his right shoulder as Dolores dragged him by his left wrist.

“ _Jessica_!”

She waved from across the street, the redhead stopped to look around; after a few seconds of idly turning, she spotted them; she gave a small wave and Dolores repeated the action with a smile, all before she pulled Eddie across the road when it was safe, knocking the air out of him again when he'd just managed to adjust his clothes! Jessica watched, face unreadable when they made it across to stand in front of her, still unreadable as Dolores adjusted Eddie’s collar and blazer.

“What you doing here?” Dolores asked with a smile; she'll admit, she wasn't keen on Jessica in the beginning but she had a lot on her plate back then, with her husband missing and being accused of murder so her first impression wasn't going to be the best, regardless of how it happened. (not to mention how she was being perceived as a cheat by everyone.) The times when the four of them would get together-although rare- were fun and made her feel guilty for judging Jessica, judging her by something she had no control over.

“Coincidence; I was just coming to see _you_.” She replied with her usual, velvety voice.

“Why?”

“I was picking up the car back home.” She gestured with her thumb to the direction of Toontown, then she reached for her pink purse and snapped open the clasps. Producing from it: a folded-up piece of paper. 

“I was going to head home straight away to play scrabble with Roger but the mechanic found _this_ in our car.”

She held it up beside her face.

“I don’t know what it is... _exactly_... I'm glad for that... but they said it’s best I report it anyway.”

Then she handed it to Dolores, once she took it, Jessica pushed some of her red waves behind her ear, a twinkling gold stud now visible. 

“ _Report it_?” Dolores asked.

Jessica only nodded in response.

"So, why not take it to the _police_? There's one in Toontown right?" Eddie asked.

There was. Toons were invented to serve humans, be their walking creations but when Toontown was built in Los Angeles and hordes of toons were pushed to live there, people had to specifically draw toons that would thrive off of doing an off-screen job, policing the city, building homes... so humans wouldn't have to be burdened with doing it themselves.

“Yes, but police are such _pigs_ and men can be _slobs_ , so I thought you’d like it instead... Besides, I'm not really concerned about it anyway.”

Eddie shuffled on the spot and threw a _look_ Dolores' way.

“I’m a man, ya know.” He grumbled.

“Yes, I know.”

Dolores smiled at him jokingly; it turned toothy when Eddie sighed and rolled his eyes, biting his lip at Jessica’s implication.

“So is Roger.” He replied, less enthusiastic.

“Oh, yes he _definitely_ is... but a dignified one.”

 _Dignified?_ Eddie thought with a smirk. Then he motioned to Dolores to pass him the letter, she did. He unfolded it, the paper was yellowing, the writing was in strong, pigmented, black ink and had smudged in some places.

“ _Love, your brother_?”

Dolores put a finger to her lips; she'd peered over to read the note with Eddie and was equally perplexed. Cars whizzed by and caused her hair to shift, what with them standing on an empty parking spot, putting them more in the vehicles' path. Well, it was a walkway parking spot but still a _spot_.

“I never asked if Roger had a brother-”

“He doesn’t, neither do I... This letter _definitely_ wasn't meant to be read by me...”

“No parents?” Dolores continued. Nodding at her statement on the letter but more focused on the first thing she'd said.

“We weren’t drawn with parents, it’s just the two of us.”

Dolores smiled; sadly. She knew Jessica considered _her_ a friend but the way she had said that made it sound like she was her only friend... Well, Eddie too. She didn't sound sad though; Dolores hadn't gotten the hang of reading her yet. 

“Jessica, ever heard of book club?”

“No."

“Well! It might do you some good to come on Friday afternoons-"

“Can’t; me and Roger watch B list movies and make fun of them on Friday.”

“Oh... well, me and the girls go out to eat this Wednesday-"

“I have to perform on Wednesdays. Probably pick Roger up from work, go to work myself, watch sitcoms while he warms me up some dinner, then go to bed, all in that order.”

“...Well, how about Saturday night? -"

“Once Roger gets a schedule again, Saturday’s a _special_ night... but _right now_ , most nights are.”

 **"Oh** - **"**

“ _C_ _ould’ve went without knowing that_...” Eddie coughed into his fist.

“ _But_ if you’d like, _you_ could visit _us_ sometime.” Jessica asked, intersecting through their awkward glances, seemingly unfazed by her own comment. Dolores seemed to brighten at her suggestion; meanwhile Eddie moved uncomfortably, reaching an arm up to scratch his neck, supposedly coyly.

“ ** _Well_** -"

“We'd love to!” Dolores intervened through Eddie’s declination.

“Okay." Jessica appeared to smile slightly, "I’ll write our address down for you.”

Whilst she reached into her purse for a pen and paper, Eddie took the opportunity to nudge his partner and toss her a dirty look, she just rolled her eyes and focused back on Jessica, patiently waiting as she scribbled. Eddie didn't hate the Rabbits, secretly, Roger was probably one of his best friends. But he didn't like people making plans for him. Even though he had gotten out more with Dolores' help, he still wasn't a 'social' person, outside of work anyway; he could speak to people without freezing up... he used to do that all the time at the terminal bar. But a house visiting person? Clotted cream on the table and a cup of coffee in hand, sitting in one place while people talked about meaningless fluff...? No, that wasn't him. Every time the four of them got together they'd be _doing_ something. A home visit wasn't like that. 

Jessica handed them a square of paper and Eddie's eyes widened.

“ _Chuck Estates_! I always forget that you two are rolling in it.”

“ _Eddie_ -"

“Thank you, for taking _that_ off my hands..." She pointed to the letter, "see you two soon.”

She rotated on her high heel and strutted back the Packard; as she did, two business-type dressed men walked past her, Dolores and Eddie could see their faces morph, look her up and down before one whistled at her; Dolores rolled her eyes. Jessica just opened the car door and slammed it behind her, after practically flying into her seat that is. She revved the engine and reversed into a puddle, _fast_. Thereby soaking the two in dirty water. Eddie looked to his partner and chuckled, she reciprocated, grinning at the men grumbling about their spoiled suits. Jessica then beeped the horn twice before she drove away.

-

Roger tapped his foot, the rhythm: a tune stuck in his head, an earworm but he wasn’t even that frustrated about it. Staring into his own eyes whilst he brushed his teeth, a mixture of white paint and varnish forming on his lips, escaping from the confines of his closed mouth before he spat the contents out into the sink, his humming now louder when compared to earlier, when toothpaste and toothbrush muffled him. He took his gloves off and placed them next to Jessica’s on the sink vanity, then ran the cold tap and splashed his face, the final step before turning in for the night; he stared at himself a bit longer when he was towelling his face, almost like he was talking to himself with his eyes. Tomorrow was the big day, first day on the job, Disney Studios... _Disney Studios_...He felt nervous excitement rush through him. Grinning at his reflection, shoulders up to his cheeks as he began to silently squeal and bounce on the spot. Then he elegantly twirled and threw the towel in his hands on the rack, it found it _perfectly, not to brag_. He clicked off the light and energetically ran into the bedroom, Jessica was sat upright waiting for him, she laughed when he jumped and crawled over her to get to his side. Once he was in, his legs still moved about with adrenaline.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re too adorable.” She cooed, the bedside lamp dimly illuminating her figure.

He giggled up at her, her green eyes scrunched in amusement when he kept laughing. Then he thought of a _‘funny’_ way to introduce himself tomorrow and his laughter turned breathless, Jessica joined in on the uncontrollable giggling despite not knowing _why_ he was laughing, he kept trying to tell her but each time he lost the breath to do so: _“I just thought-!”, “listen, listen, I walk-", “I can’t! My stomach, oh my god!”_ Jessica was on her back chortling, eyes watering; they somehow managed to calm down and when they did, they had ended up closer: Roger’s head leaning on her shoulder as he caught his breath. They both stared up at the ceiling.

“I was trying to say: imagine me walking in-" he extended his skinny arms above him and made the fingers on his right-hand walk. From his view, the ceiling acted as a backdrop to a little play, his right-hand cast as him, his left was a door, he felt Jessica turn to face them, breath escaping her nose in a giggle after she did.

“I’m walking in... here I am, _doo doo doo my legs are moving_ -"

“Roger, stop I’m going to get hiccups!”

“Okay, okay! So, as we’ve well established, I’m walking, _we’ve established, that right_?”

“Yes, ha!”

“So, I’m walking, the doors open - _as doors do_ \- and I just stand there and go: is anyone _else_ Dis-new?”

His arms drop to lay back beside him as he laughs again, Jessica gasping for breath in between snorting.

“ **What**!” she breathily screamed, in a joking way, not malicious, Roger knew she had basically said: _we were laughing because of that!?_

But she was still laughing because it was dumb; that’s why he laughed and for some reason, that made him really happy, happy that he could share weird stuff like that with Jessica, he always had but for some reason the thought hit him, in a good way. He could be himself with people, he thought he was good at socialising but Jessica was the only person who he felt truly _got_ him.

“I know! It’s _so_ stupid!”

She let her back meet the mattress, still chuckling some. Roger took the opportunity to link arms with her, move close and lean his head against the nook of her shoulder again. He snuggled his cheek into it and Jessica smiled down at him.

“I _looooooove_ you!”

“I love you too.”

“No, I love you more!”

“No, I love _you_ more.” She poked his nose, looking at him lovingly as she did.

“No, I love you more!” He grinned, booping her nose in return.

Roger had taken Jessica’s advice. He wasn’t going to worry about Herman. He wanted to enjoy actually living out a dream! He’d think about his co-star later and hey! Maybe it won’t be so bad, playing babysitter again, maybe he had just gotten rusty with time off work? Maybe he was secretly raring to go and play uncle? Who knew? He was just going to enjoy it; nothing was set in stone yet anyway! Jessica seemed to be doing good, Roger hoped she was going to be alright with him being half an hour away, he made her promise that she’d remember to take care of herself, she crossed her heart so Roger had no reason to worry. Sure, sometimes she seemed a bit _out of it_ , maybe with thoughts of what had happened? Roger was no doctor so every time he clocked it, he brought her back to reality with a joke or loving compliment. Asking Jessica if she’d feel better talking about it happened before but she told him no, _‘I’m feeling better already, dear'_. So, he wasn’t about to force her.

He thought about asking someone to watch her in case she got stuck thinking about _stuff_ but he didn’t want her to think he thought she couldn’t handle anything, he looked up to her independence! He just made sure she knew how to focus on happy things...

His fingers intertwined with hers and the lamp clicked off.

“Goodnight dear, best get as much sleep as possible, you’ll regret it otherwise.”

He felt her kiss his cheek. He smiled.

“Very true, intellectual my love, goodnight.” He leaned forward, faintly seeing the outline of her lips in the dark. He planted a kiss on them, one which she reciprocated with her own.

“Goodnight.” She repeated, then she squeezed his hand and rested into her pillow, closing her eyes. The only sound in the room was their breathing and the wind outside meeting the glass of the window, strong but strangely calming. Roger itched his nose and shifted into a comfortable position before letting his eyelids fall shut.

.

.

**.**

**.**

_It’s Monday, the 2 nd of June 1947. I got a call from Disney today, they called to affirm that I was coming in the following day for work. At the time, Jessica and I were playing Parcheesi and I almost lost the die as the reality of **everything**_ _finally fell on me. I threw the die across the room but luckily, Jessica caught it with her fast thinking! She ended up winning so I had to bow to her, naturally as she was the winner. Then we ate leftovers: casserole and vegetables. Jessica asked me which makeup would suit which nails after, that got me thinking about alternate scenarios: what if she was talking about construction nails and what if someone asked that because they were on a building job, at a very **specific**_ _place and they wanted to coordinate because...who didn’t? I wouldn’t be caught **dead**_ _in a purple ensemble whilst hammering a red nail!... I thought the green suited her makeup idea the best though... she looks beautiful in green!..._

_Well, I’m dreaming now, still Monday- wait, or it might already be Tuesday, that’s weird, I fall asleep on Monday but I don’t sleep on Monday as much as I do on Tuesday but then I don’t sleep on Tuesday as much as I do on Wednesday, then! I won’t- okay I’m gonna stop that now..._

_So, am I vivid dreaming?... Lucid dreaming? I thought we were very busy, remember? We were flying on that plane which landed in France? then we stopped looking for the diamond to eat fish on a train? all whilst escaping the mob? now I’m just talking to you about my day, Stephen- or was it Simon... I’m sorry, that hit on my head I got on the cruise ship really messed me up, Steve._

Whoosh...

_But gotta work smarter not harder Sean, the hit on the head was a small sacrifice in exchange for the mission!_

Whoosh...

_Woo-_

**Clang!**

_Hey... David- Dalton... Steven, am I hearing things or is the limo making noises-_

Thump...

Bang!

**_Thump!_ **

Roger’s ears shot up, eyes adjusting to the dark when they flew open consequently after, he looked to the nightstand, the clock showed that it was about 4 in the morning. He groaned, pushed himself up into a sitting position and let his ears twitch, they moved in every direction; he was trying to pick up that sound again...

Jessica’s little snores was all he received, he looked down at her, he could see that she was closer to him, her arm looking as if it had been around him. He inwardly apologised that he’d escaped her embrace, then he rolled his eyes at the sound. He’d never heard anything like _that_ before; they lived in a pretty quiet area of Toontown but hey, nothing’s truly impossible. He took her arm and draped it over his stomach. Twisting to lay on his side, he shuffled so his back was against her, closing his eyes to-

**_Slam! Crash!_ **

_Okay! What was that?_ He sat up again; more abruptly this time, accidentally waking up Jessica.

She sleepily moaned and rubbed her eyes.

“ _What are you doing...?_ ” She reached up and grabbed his shoulders, trying to pull him back down to the bed “come back...I’m cold without you...”

He resisted and stayed seated.

“Jessica, I heard something...”

“It’s probably nothing, come _cuddle_ _meeee_...”

“Jessica, I think-"

**_Bang! Slam! Crash!_ **

Sounds that felt _deliberate_ interrupted him and Jessica released her grip, for a moment their room was filled with thick, unbearable silence and Roger felt his bare hands grip the side of the mattress like a lifeline. It sounded like metal on metal? Thoughts of _this_ being the last thing he remembered when he woke up in a hospital: sat stiff upright in bed with his wife witness to his cowardice. The hospital pencilling him in for multiple operations, operations to remove various weapons from his body, weapons that were: _‘toon proof: won’t hurt too long but you’ll remember it for the rest of your life!’_ those, _what ifs?_ shot through his mind and strangely, thoughts of his comic book collection being read by a perpetrator, without the special tweezers used to hold the pages. _Oh god, anything but that_. Well, he didn’t really mean that... but if that _did_ happen it would definitely make him cry later... when he would be in the shower thinking of nothing... and at least for a minute.

“What was _that_?” Jessica finally mumbled through the silence.

“I don’t know...” Roger replied back in a whisper, as if speaking louder would alert themselves to whatever _that_ _was_.

“should I look out the window?” He finished; unsure whether he was actually able to _will_ himself look.

“I’ll go...” Jessica replied, perhaps sensing his unease.

She slid out of bed and tiptoed to the window, her white and baby blue slip dress was illuminated against the moonlight. She ducked slightly, her thin fingers pulling back the curtain and separating two blinds. Roger found that he was fiddling with his thumbs; he whispered for her to be careful to calm his nerves.

“...Roger, I think _the fence is dented...?_ ”

“Huh?”

“The fence...it looks dented...”

She stood up and let the curtain and blinds fall back into place, moving cautiously as she turned to face him.

“Maybe someone just decided to-"

**_Slam!_ **

A deathly silence settled in again after the thunderous bang, Roger felt an icy sweat come over him before he and Jessica slowly turned to meet each other’s eyes, the synchronicity would’ve been funny but, in this situation, Roger found himself questioning if he was dreaming.

“I’m not crazy, right? that was the front door, _right_?” Roger asked.

She nodded, scared; Roger did all he thought to do: lift up the covers and usher her inside. She climbed back in bed, now on his side, her arms wrapped around him as he pulled the sheets over their heads.

“What are we gonna do?” Jessica whispered into his chest.

“...Well, this seems like a good idea, they’ll never find us here!”

He felt Jessica’s hot breathe linger on his collarbone for a moment longer before she responded, voice amused but both scared and frustrated at once:

“I think they _might_ have a good chance...We have to get to the landline downstairs, Roger-"

**_Crash! Thump, thump, thump._ **

That was definitely from inside the house, _definitely_. After a moment of heavy breathing, their blanketed fortress getting hotter and more unbearable by the second, a pitter-patter of footsteps resounded off of the walls of the house. Roger’s breath hitched, when Jessica dug her nails into his sides at the noise.

“ _Dearest_ , maybe ease up on the grip-"

“ ** _Oh, God!_** What if they steal our wedding pictures! Or the fabric I want to make into matching bow ties! or the collage supplies! _Roger_ , we have to move now, come on!”

She pulled back the covers and Roger gulped in fresh air, Jessica jumped out of bed, grabbed her dressing gown and tied it tight around her waist.

“Oh, if only I had the foresight to bring a frying pan up to bed!”

Hearing the panicked distress in his beloved’s voice gave him the _push_ to climb out of bed, he took a deep breath of confidence as he strode to be beside her, searching their vanity for potential weapons as he ushered her to stand behind him.

“Okay! Okay... Dearest stand behind me! If they take a shot, I’ll have the worst of the blow!”

“Oh, but Roger, I-"

“-and take this!”

He interrupted her protest, grabbing an object from said vanity and passing it to her from over his shoulder.

“A _candle_? -" She whispered.

“Yes! and I’ll take your flat iron, let’s go!”

Roger forced himself to replace nervousness with brave authority. His mind focused on being angry about losing sleep on such an _important_ night, that way, he could pose as some sort of threat to whoever was walking around their living room. He gripped Jessica’s flat iron, his white fur disguising what were probably white knuckles. He moved slowly, acting as the leader with Jessica delicately tip toeing behind him. The door creaked agonisingly as Roger pushed it open with his elbow, pushing slower with each creak the door produced, almost like it was mocking him.

The air of the hallway was _far_ colder than in the bedroom and Roger felt regret for not grabbing his gown also, shivering slightly as he continued to guide in only his boxers. He felt Jessica touch his shoulder for security, motivating him to continue walking. Moving downstairs, the sounds of rummaging and the telephone being played with reached Roger’s ears, _odd._ With each step Roger felt his confidence _surprisingly_ rise; maybe this experience could come in handy for work, imagining this as a set which his potential co-workers observed made his thoughts flood with opening one liners, animated walk cycles and faces filled with expression. _Roger this is real life! **Shut up, Brain,** you’re ruining it! It’s just this once, plus! Whatever works, don’t judge!_

After his feet had left the carpet of the stairs for icy wooden floorboards, he reached his arm around the wall and felt for the living room light switch.

 _Got it_.

 _Okay_...

He breathed in.

_3_

_2_

**_1-_ **

“Freeze! criminal scum!”

He punched the lights on.

That would’ve looked mighty impressive to a studio audience! But after light filled the room, Roger and Jessica could only stare at the intruder in their house, an intruder who was just as surprised to see them, maybe more so.

“ _What_... _what is it?_ ” Jessica whispered into his ear.

Roger squinted. It was short... with green overalls?... a little hat, webbed feet-

“it’s...I believe it’s a duck, my dear.”

It shifted. Apparently, his staring made it uncomfortable? _Well, excuse meeeeee, I was only woken up by a cacophony of noise which led me to find a weirdly, semi-realistic **duck** in my living room! I’m so sorry you’re **uncomfortable**!_

“urm...why does it look like _that_?” Jessica continued to ask.

Roger turned to look at her, they shared a confused glance which said a thousand words, only eleven years of marriage could achieve such abilities. He looked at the thing from the corner of his eye; Jessica moved to place both hands on his shoulders again. It was different than most animated anthropomorphic animals like himself; it more resembled the build and size of a real duck. Its arms or... wings, short and probably unable to touch its toes, its legs longer but not incredibly, it looked to actually be more designed to swim rather than walk. Toons like Roger weren’t meant to resemble their real-life counterparts to a _tee._ In most cases anyway, just to make them cute and eye-catching to a wide audience. Humans got pretty _dull_ after a few hundred characters. Roger knew animals like the ones in _‘snow white’_ were made to be as close to reality as possible but like he’d said, that was in 1937, _this_ was a decade later, there was a difference. There was not many of this variety of toon or at least, more of animals on two legs and proportional arms like Roger; Roger would’ve known them... maybe they looked a smidgen familiar? But he just couldn’t figure out why...?

“ _I haven’t a clue_...erm, **excuse me**?” he raised his voice; politely despite his home being broken into. He waved his arm a little and once the duck focused on him again Roger nodded, trying to be cordial.

“Yes, hello! _what_ are you doing in our house?”

It just stared back at him. Roger raised an eyebrow and twisted his wrist as if to say: ‘ _I asked you a question’_ but nothing.

“I don’t think it can talk, Roger...” Jessica predicted; after a few more moments of awkward, anticipated silence.

Roger was about halfway through nodding in agreement with her, when the intruder flew up and landed itself onto the mantel. It waddled itself along; Jessica and Roger watching with bated breath. _Then!_ It started fiddling with their photographs. Roger gasped and ran over to the toon, he heard Jessica wheeze at his movement as well as felt her grabbing for him but it was too late; he was feet away, staring up at the duck. He had his hands curled into fists and placed onto his hips, face stern.

“ _Oh!_ **No!** don’t touch that, that's important! - **hey!** ”

Roger bit his tongue when the duck suddenly flew down to stand next to him, chest forward as it walked/wobbled, Roger backed up as the duck continued to approach; eventually it would block him into a corner.

“Look, _I’m warning you!_ I’ve got a flat iron! and your ‘ _do_ ’ looks like it could use some primping!”

He extended the flat iron out, consequently pointing it at the duck’s face, who halted and seemed confused at the sight of such a normal yet _horrifying_ weapon!

“Yea! And I’ll... _pour burning wax on you_...”

Roger turned to look at his wife and from the corner of his eye: as did the duck. So, they _could_ understand them...

Jessica was looking down at the candle in her hand, voice and face equally unsure.

“Darling, how primitive-"

“ **SQUAWK!** ”

The duck flew towards him; Roger dropped the flat iron out of terror and started to run around the living room, defenceless and screaming as Jessica cried in horror, the duck landing some hard pecks on his head as she did.

“ ** _AHHHH!_** JESSICA, POUR THE WAX! GET A LIGHTER! _WHY DIDN’T I TAKE UP SMOKING?!_ **WE DONT HAVE ANY LIGHTERS!** ”

“Get off my husband! you little **scribble** you!”

She ran, her long legs quickly taking her to the perp, she grabbed him by the braces of his overalls and pulled him away from Roger. It writhed in her grip and so managed to break free; she put up a good fight before yelping and falling flat on her back. The duck, now free from her hold, launched itself accidently into the wall above the TV, a photograph from their wedding falling and crashing onto the floor at the impact. Jessica pushed herself up hurriedly, she gasped and scowled. _If looks could kill._ Roger thought.

“ _My wedding day!_ **You little -!** I’m gonna make **chicken breast** out of you!”

“-Jessica, how about hoisin _duck_ , right?”

After it shook off the hurt that was flying into a solid wall, with a portrait in a glass frame, it narrowed its eyebrows and went back to squawking, _then flew straight at them!_

“ **AHHH!** ” Roger and Jessica held each other and screamed in unison.

After what felt like hours of being chased and in a comical way, no less, (things like hiding in the space under the stairs would happen, they'd both sigh, proclaim that they were alone, only for the duck to squawk from _behind_ them) Jessica had somehow managed to catch the toon in a net. Roger recognised it as the fishing net they'd bought on that vacation to Malibu. She had confined the intruder to the kitchen so, Roger took the opportunity to run into the living room and call the police. 

“ _Yes_? Someone just broke into our house, we’ve caught ‘em in a net now- not _Annette_ , I don’t know an Annette-"

“ _Alright sir, what’s your address_?”

“Yes, erm, 48 Messmer Street, Chuck Estates.”

After that was done with, Roger thanked the operator, set the phone down and went to walk away-

Roger had tangled himself in the phone wire. Okay, he _did feel it brush against him slightly_ as he paced and turned around the room whilst on the phone... but he hadn't realised he'd trapped himself. He struggled and pulled until he fell onto the floor, free and scrambling to get back up; when he did, he halted to place the phone back on the stand. Then he resumed with running back to the kitchen. 

“Okay, my dearest! Help is on the- _what are you doing?_ ”

Roger watched as Jessica was kneeling on the tiled surface of the kitchen, pieces of bread in her hand, pieces which the duck was eating up greedily.

“I thought he’d calm down if I gave him some bread.”

“ _He_?”

“Well, he can’t talk but he sure is difficult, _like a man._ ”

Roger sat down beside her and crossed his legs.

“Very true, _oh!_ Hey! _Excuuuuse_ me, **sir** -”

Roger placed his hands on his hips, about to make a quip about the duck's awful table manners. He snapped his fingers in the duck’s face, as a result, he twitched and moved his head in every which way before meeting the rabbit's eyes. Roger produced an over exaggerated gasp at his moving pupils. His jeer changing from table manners to something else.

“My eyes are up _here_!” he scowled and pointed two fingers up to his eyes.

He then rested a hand on Jessica’s thigh, rubbing his thumb against it lovingly as if to say: _"I know it's a serious thing."_ Jessica took his hand in hers. Being with Roger taught her that _anything_ could be funny, well, anything _but_ jokes about others who didn’t deserve it. 'Anything' meant: laughing at yourself but in such a way as to not invalidate the importance of the issue, just learning to deal with it and make the best of a bad situation. Hell, Roger even made _murder_ jokes at his expense a few weeks after everything died down.

Jessica laughed.

“Oh Roger, only _you_ can say that and still make me laugh.”

“A talent I am most proud of, my love.”

“oh, darling! -"

**"Squawk!"**

“We’re having a moment, _shush_!” Jessica raised her voice at the duck; pressing a finger to her pursed lips.

“ **S _hhhhh_**!” Roger copied, “dearest, I see what you mean, we _definitely_ have a man caught in our kitchen...the back talk is despicable!”

A few more minutes passed until blaring sirens and flashing lights made themselves known. 

“Come on, Roger, let’s get this sorted, then I can go back to dreaming about my outfit for tomorrow.”

“Do you have any relatives or friends you could stay the rest of the night with?” the toon warthog asked. His forehead red with the police hat, tightly shoved onto his head. 

Roger and Jessica shared a look.

“ _Nope_ , just us in this dog gone world.” He smiled, then crossed his arms over his bare chest.

“Okay...we can have someone keep watch here if you’d like?”

Roger looked up to Jessica again; she smiled and shook her head.

“No, we won’t be needing that.”

“Sure?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, goodnight Mr and Mrs Rabbit.”

“Goodnight! _He likes white bread!_ ” Roger called as they walked away, the overall-clad duck, staring at him from the back of the police car as he did. He waved at him cheekily, then closed the door. Luckily, nothing was smashed; the duck had managed to wriggle in through the open window. _Oops_.

“ **Well**! Come on my dear, I’ll get us some antihistamines from the bathroom... those will be _sure_ to knock us right out!”

“Oh, good idea, sweetheart.”

.

**The morning:**

“Oh, _darn_!”

“Oh, darling, let me tie it for you...”

Roger felt his hands soak with perspiration from under his gloves, his heart beating fast with nervous anticipation. Last night he was jumping off of the walls with excitement but now, he felt butterflies swarm in his stomach as well as that. He breathed in deeply through his nose in an effort to calm himself as Jessica undid his tie, it was in a high tight knot, twisted and unlike any knot ever tied _ever_. He couldn’t remember the last time he wore a tie...probably for the reception of their wedding? That was a while ago; he wanted to make an impression: a funny guy, stylish slacks. Thought he’d mix it up too, no better time than now, right?

He became fixated on watching her effortlessly drape the tie around his neck and under his collar, fold it over itself and _somehow_ create a perfect tie. She smiled at him.

“You look so handsome, honeybunny!”

She stood up and guided him to turn and look into the mirror, her hands squeezing his shoulders.

“Oh, isn’t it perfect! I _knew_ we still had those trousers!”

Roger looked himself up and down and beamed at her praise, anxiousness taking a backseat for a moment. He sure looked stylish, with an added _flavour_ of professional: pink tweed pants with dusty pink braces, white button up and an identical blush suit jacket. then he comically pushed his hair back, a smug smile on his face while he placed both hands on his hips. After, he changed to leaning slightly to the left like he was posing on a car for a magazine, then he spun on his heel, adjusted his matching pink blazer by grabbing the lapels and pulling them downward, the garment instantly more form-fitting as a result. Jessica clapped and giggled when he pursed his lips like a model.

“Can’t forget the blazer as well, Jessica! Boy, do I look spiffy!”

Now without the distraction that was pretending to be on the cover of vogue, nervous energy started to build up inside him again. He was swinging his arms back and forth, leg bobbing at the breakfast table, so out in space that he almost forgot a _crucial_ accessory. Luckily, he grabbed it just before they had locked up: a notepad and pencil. Oh, he was so _ready_ to get Goofy's autograph! He had almost kicked himself when the papers published the aftermath of the Doom situation; Goofy was in amongst the crowd and he was too focused on the will and Jessica to notice! Although...that was a good thing, best to be a good husband before a good fan, Roger nodded at the thought. But everything worked out! He didn’t need to notice Goofy then because soon... _they’d be co-workers!_ Oh, the thought alone made Roger feel faint, sitting in the passenger seat with the windows down to make him feel less congested.

He’d looked up to him for so long! Reading comics and watching his cartoons, referencing his slapstick repeatedly until he got good and fluid. This was such a-!

 _Timing and finesse...What if he hated my show?! Oh, I’d have to resign myself to death! Leave the house and groceries to Jessica, Eddie can have the lamp by the door; I was never too keen on that, now there’s just the issue of finding a way to erase myself from paper- wait, **am I crazy!?**_ _Dip’s obsolete and besides, Jessica would miss my photogenic outfits-_

“Sweetie, why don’t we put some music on? You seem tense.”

“Huh? _Me_? Tense? And Tex Avery is an _alien_ , that’s what’s next to that in the: ‘world’s most ridiculous theories’ hardback edition. But for you, my love, I’ll concede, do you want-"

“Jazz"

“-Jazz? Oh! - I was right!”

Jessica smiled, looking at him from the corner of her eye before going back to focusing on the road ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, just to remind you, these chapters are named after songs I think relate to the chapters... I get really inspired by music. (Also... I get goosebumps by listening to music when its really good! But I didn't know that not everyone got that! Humans are strange.) And the song 'candy' doesn't completely describe Roger but parts of it that do realllyyyyy do. Here's the playlist of all the songs the chapters are named after:  
> https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLyNzoGJKjdrMlCH9bXcxtKZPMF7b8RTF6

**Author's Note:**

> K so I've wanted to post something here for the longest time but have only gotten the courage to do so now....which is probably for the best. Also...if your confused about the whole "you weren't supposed to know, Acme wasn't supposed to die" but Maroon wanted to show Roger the pictures from the very start, well... that will be answered! it was purposefullllll  
> Hope this goes well.


End file.
